


For hopes, for dreams

by AnnetheBAMF



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, BAMF!Gen, Badass!Gen, Bonding, Byakuya ships it, Canon-compliant villains, Dreamscapes, EVERYTHING HURTS BUT THERE IS A GOOD ENDING, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Familiars, Fluff, Found Family, I love Ukyo okay I just love him, I went nuts on this I am sorry, Love Confessions, M/M, MANGA VILLAINS!, Pining, STORYLINE!, Smut, Soul Bond, blood and injuries, distrustful Gen, pining but it's bass boosted, self-doubt but it's BASS BOOSTED, some unrequited love but not what you may be thinking of, taking care of each other, touch-starved Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 41,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21544894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheBAMF/pseuds/AnnetheBAMF
Summary: Gen is quaking and shivering, brain foggy from the pain. He snarls and bares his fangs, a clear warning for the human to back off.The human stops a few feet away, hands held up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s me, Senku.”Recognition registers. It’s Senku, who speaks to Gen in his dreams. It's Senku, who's clever and resourceful. It's Senku, who isn't out to kill Gen. Help me, Senku. Help.“You are,” Gen growls, voice scratchy from disuse, “literally the last person I wanted to see.”
Relationships: Asagiri Gen/Ishigami Senkuu, Best-friends Saionji Ukyo/Asagiri Gen, Chrome/Ruri (Dr. STONE), Nanami Ryuusui/Saionji Ukyou
Comments: 132
Kudos: 883





	1. Chapter 1

If there’s anything Gen hates, it’s how unpredictable and _unfair_ life can be when you’re a familiar with zero magical talent to speak of.

He continues to lament this as a hand, rough and hairy, yanks him by the collar and pretty much _throws_ him out of the door. Hushed whispers, loud gasps, and chattering fill the air as the crowd moves to make room for him. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, he thinks.

Gen doesn’t blame them. He knows what they see. There’s blood from where he skinned his knees, bruises littering his arms, and filth in his unwashed hair. He smells more like sewer rat than sunshine and rainbows.

Slowly, gingerly, he tries to stand. Falters when he feels the pull at his muscles. Tries again. Ignores the bellow of “get out, and stay out!” that resounds from behind, followed by the harsh slam of a door. Gen stands successfully this time, pretends he has his life together by brushing dust off his clothing.

Homeless. Gen’s homeless again. He stares forlornly into the little house that served as his residence for several weeks, thinks of the warm loaves of bread that the sorcerer’s wife used to bake. The sorcerer himself was reasonably nice too, when he wasn’t bristling in fury at “stupid new-age magicians who know fuck all about magic, I’m going to beat them up to show them who’s the boss” five times a day. But no matter how much Gen tried, nothing seemed to work. Gen’s presence ended up bottling the sorcerer’s magic like a stopper instead of enhancing it as planned.

 _There must be a reason_ , Gen had protested, a cocky smirk on his face to mask the urgency rising like bile in his throat. _Give me time --- just a little more time, to figure this out --- you won’t regret working with me, I’ll bring you all the glory and fame, I swear it ---_

But Gen’s a useless familiar, so.

A clap of thunder resounds in the sky. Rain begins to pour down from thick grey clouds, soaking him from head to toe.

At least no one’s looking at him anymore. Most of the pedestrians are sprinting away, searching for shelter. In the distance, he sees one or two magicians casting spells to keep themselves dry: a colourful umbrella emerging in the gloom; a large plastic sheet whooshing into existence. They do it so casually that Gen can’t help but be envious. It’s a commonly known fact that those who possess the ability to wield magic are blessed --- the general population otherwise can’t use magic and are incapable of comprehending how to even begin harnessing it.

The only thing that could surpass being a magician, is to be a magician who finds a compatible familiar.

Gen slinks into an alley. It’s gross and wet, with muddy puddles and overflowing stormwater drains. It’s _comforting._ No one can find him here or see him in this sad and sorry state. He’s tired and spent, whether from overexerting himself in the last magic session or just being in a shitty mood overall.

So he closes his eyes.

Sleeps.

***

Gen may suck at magic, but he recognises a dream when he sees one. So when he finds himself in a vast dreamscape with glittering stars and the milky way scattered around him, he questions whether he had inadvertently smoked or consumed any strange substances in the throes of his angst fest and had simply forgotten about it.

Because this dreamscape, however conjured, is indescribably beautiful. Gen loves the stars, has always loved them, even if he doesn’t get the chance to observe them much. The city he’s in is always full of artificial lights, blinding and robbing nature of its shine.

For a moment, Gen allows himself to bask in this dream, all worries forgotten. He thinks back to the days where he frolicked under the dark skies as a child, memorising constellations and learning up the names of planets. He would stand and dream of the day he’d get to know them all, getting to visit strange planets and sights he had never seen.

Even if none of this is real, even if this is all a dream, Gen wants to enjoy it for as long as he can.

But the dreamscape clearly has a mind of its own, because when Gen spins around there are new items which weren’t there the last time he checked. He closes his mouth to stop gaping, because what’s in front of him looks like a strange pocket of space crammed to the brim with equally strange paraphernalia. There’s a mountain of books in different languages, a table with an eclectic spread of vials and herbs, and a floating computer next to it. Even more bizarre is the bulky telescope almost as tall as Gen himself, and a sophisticated model of a rocket that looks hand made. The word _Soyuz_ is scrawled on the plastic, glow-in-the-dark ink shining almost as brightly as the stars.

None of those items are familiar. Gen has never owned any of these things, and he doesn’t remember ever seeing them in passing either. The combination of items look personal, almost as if Gen’s taking a peek into someone’s room. Weird.

Then the nagging feeling at the back of his mind begins.

Gen feels observed. Watched. Whoever’s doing it is good, controlling their presence so skilfully that it would be barely noticeable by those capable of sensing magic.

The welcome Gen has for the dreamscape vanishes. This must be some kind of trap, he’s sure of it. Since he’s experienced at concealing his emotions, Gen forces the panic down and pretends to blink like he’s confused. Better to fool the enemy into thinking that Gen has played into their hands, than for them to be alerted to Gen’s wariness.

“You’re aware this isn’t a normal dream, then? Smart.”

Gen doesn’t jump, but he comes close. The voice is deep, male. A sorcerer, then. But who?

“Over here,” the voice says. This time, when Gen looks, he sees a figure stepping out from the rippling dreamscape.

If Gen’s two-toned hair has always attracted curiosity, then this sorcerer is on a whole different level. It’s the hair that first catches Gen’s attention --- the sorcerer’s hair, pale with green tips, add at least several inches to his height. Then come the strikingly scarlet eyes, the angular jaw, the smirk brimming with confidence. Otherwise he’s built like a regular man, wearing bandages as arm wraps and wrapping a fur-lined cloak around his figure.

But there’s no denying that this sorcerer --- whoever he is --- is good-looking.

And incredibly powerful.

Naturally, Gen saunters up to the sorcerer with confidence he does not possess, glancing up with the kind of faux shyness that has charmed countless men and women alike. “Hey, heeey, you’re a sorcerer, right? This dream is, like, amazing. How did you make it happen just for the two of us?”

The sorcerer looks amused, but he doesn’t stammer around Gen like people usually do. “No clue. This dreamscape surprised me too. Can’t say I’m complaining though, it’s not every day you get to see something as breath-taking as this.”

Bullshit.

“Something so incredible must surely be painstakingly designed by your hand,” Gen purrs. _Tell me the truth already,_ inner-Gen snarls. _Whatever you want with me, fucking spit it out. I’m not in the mood for games, not after all the shit that every sorcerer has put me through ---_

The sorcerer snorts. “Hardly. I was testing out a new dream spell without knowing what the results would be. Our magic must have intermingled to produce this.”

“Really? I’ve heard that magic between two people don’t mix well unless they’re bonded in one way or another,” Gen simpers, checking to see if his flirtatious smile is still in place. It is, but the situation’s kind of urgent, and really, Gen just wants answers to this trippy situation he’s in. And maybe punch this handsome guy in the face.

“I told you, this dream spell was a _test_. Truthfully? I’ve been trying to get results from it for a few months now. This is the first time it’s ever worked. So whatever we have here, it’s got some of you in it too.” The sorcerer paces around, contemplative. Then he kicks himself off the ground, pulling off an impressive, weightless somersault as understanding fills his eyes. “Wait, that’s it --- it’s you. _You’re_ the key to this place.”

“An unrealistic theory,” Gen remarks dryly. He doesn’t have the magic to do anything of that sort.

The sorcerer rushes up to Gen, yelling excitedly. “No, listen. _You_ reached out with your magic in your sleep. That magic encountered mine. That’s how this dreamscape was formed. This ---" the sorcerer gestures wildly at the night sky, at the stars Gen has known and loved all his life --- “this is all you!” He pauses, looks at the distorted pocket filled with a wide array of astronomy equipment, the massive pile of books, and the model of _Soyuz_ rocket. “Well, these are mine. But still.”

Gen’s still smiling, but even he can tell that it’s strained. “From what I can tell, this is a trap. A well-crafted one, oh wonderful sorcerer. Do you know what this dream spell of yours would be great for? Trapping people who do not want to be here, while you analyse them and pick out their weaknesses based on what their dreamscapes reveal.”

“This isn’t a trap,” the sorcerer protests, looking offended that Gen’s even suggesting it. “Sure, I hid my presence for a while, but that’s because I was being careful. You may not know it, but there are people who I watch out for, too.”

Gen turns away, his façade slipping. This sorcerer’s trouble, and no matter how Gen is desperate for a magician to take him in, he’s not stupid enough to go for the dangerous ones.

A hand on his wrist stops him. “Wait.” The sorcerer’s giving him a strange look, eyebrows all furrowed like he has something else to say. “We need to talk. In real life, not like this. You can’t be far, not if we managed to link up like this. Where can I find you?” 

In your dreams, Gen wants to say, then stops short when he realises that they _are_ already in one. So he slaps the sorcerer’s hand away, the determination to severe their connection stronger than ever.

***

The night sky Gen awakes to is blanketed with smog from the industrial factories next door, and Gen realises that he never had the chance to find out what the sorcerer's name is. 

***

Kohaku, as usual, takes pity on Gen and feeds him pies and muffins that Stone Café doesn’t sell out by the end of the day _._ She sniffs at Gen, wrinkles her nose, and shoves him in the direction of the shower.

“I’ll do your laundry,” she calls, “and find you something of Chrome’s to wear.”

Gen hums in response. The hot water is heavenly, and being able to shampoo his hair and scrub all the grime away is absolutely luxurious. He spends no longer than fifteen minutes in there, conscious of using up all the hot water.

Kohaku is serving the last few customers when Gen ambles down the stairs, feeling more refreshed than he has been in a while. He rolls up his sleeves and takes the mop that Kohaku wordlessly hands to him, mopping up floors and sticky messes of crumbs and spilled coffee. Their arrangement is unconventional but it works --- Gen doesn’t like taking things for free, so he helps out despite his dislike for laborious work.

“Things didn’t work out again,” Kohaku states bluntly.

Gen sing-songs, “nope.”

“You spent the night outside in that storm.” Kohaku’s expression is disapproving. “I’ve told you before that you’re always welcomed to stay, right? You never take that offer up. Not even once.” 

“Ah, but Kohaku, I loooove being a free man. Being cooped up in a house all day isn’t really my style.” It’s a lie, and they both know it. The truth is, Gen knows that the tiny two-bedroom apartment above the Stone Café simply can’t accommodate any extra inhabitants.

Speak of the devil. Chrome and Ruri stroll in, bags of baking materials in their hands. Chrome greets Gen loudly, complains how he doesn’t stop by often enough. Ruri merely inclines her head, flashing Gen a polite smile.

The three of them --- Chrome, Kohaku, and Ruri --- have a fascinating dynamic. Gen knows this, has always known this, but it doesn’t cease to amaze him every time he thinks about it.

Because Chrome is a sorcerer. Kohaku is his familiar, and yet ---

Gen sees the way Chrome’s eyes linger on Ruri, sees how Ruri’s fingers brush against his. The two of them are so in love that they may as well be advertising this on a neon sign. But Ruri is a human who doesn’t wield magic, so it’s Kohaku who ends up being Chrome’s familiar instead. Gen doesn’t understand how it works, because how is it possible to serve as a sorcerer’s familiar when that sorcerer is so clearly in love with your sister?

(“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” Kohaku once answered, when Gen asked. Her blue eyes, usually steely, had softened. “Chrome loves my sister, and I love her too. It’s this shared love we have for her, I think, that allows Chrome and I to be sorcerer and familiar.”)

Chrome and Ruri don’t ask Gen about his failed attempts at being a familiar, and Gen is grateful for that. Instead, Chrome prattles on about this VERY COOL and VERY AMAZING sorcerer he met today, who is full of new ideas and is simply oh-so-inspirational, and oh how incredible it would be if Chrome got to work with him someday. Gen only half-listens, because this sorcerer Chrome’s describing sounds like one of those wacky new age ones that his former-sorcerer despised --- the kinds who questioned the old ways of magic, and actively pursued new ways to enhance it by all kinds of unconventional methods, including methods with a scientific basis like alchemy, chemistry, and biology. Gen by no means hates the old ways, or the new ones --- he doesn’t have an opinion, because he simply can’t find it in himself to care.

He only realises that Chrome is speaking to him when a hand waves in front of his face. “You could meet him, you know. Senku is intelligent. He may be able to find you a solution, or introduce you to other magicians who need familiars.”

Normally, Gen would consider the offer. He’s always eager to meet new magicians, likes proving to them what he can do. But today, he’s tired. He feels cheated by the sorcerer from his dreams, thinks of quitting the life of trying to be a familiar. So he smiles, because that’s all he can do, and politely turns Chrome down.

The three of them are giving Gen concerned looks. Chrome tries again. “It won’t hurt for you to just talk to him. Senku’s stopping by soon, actually --- we’re discussing a few things, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Gen bows just slightly, like a butler would do his master. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on such an enlightening conversation.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Chrome argues.

“Spend the night here, at least,” Kohaku interjects. “It’s chilly out there, and those alleyways can’t be comfortable.”

Gen’s eyebrows twitch. “I appreciate the offer, Kohaku, but --- "

“We’ll make it work.” Even Ruri, of all people, is trying to persuade him. “It won’t be any trouble at all. We have a couch.” 

“I said I’m fine,” Gen hisses. He feels anger coil up like a wound-up spring, hears the words roll off coolly off his lips. Ruri, always perceptive to the emotions of those around her, recoils. Chrome eyes him warily, and Kohaku responds to his anger with a furious look of her own.

Right on cue, they hear knocking. That must be Senku, the sorcerer Chrome was talking about. Chrome hurries to the front door, whooping excitedly.

Gen stands, ready to slink away through the backdoor. It’s Kohaku’s firm hand on his shoulder that stays him, and by god, Gen doesn’t think he has seen her look this pissed before.

Then he hears a familiar voice from the doorway and feels ice in his very core.

“…considering expanding the boundaries of dream magic a little further. There’s something interesting I’d like to test.”

“Dream magic?” Chrome asks.

“Yeah. I think there’s potential for it to be used in forging bonds between people. I even found a potential person that could be the key to…”

The footsteps stop. Gen dares to steal a look.

Clear as it had been in his dreams is the crafty, dangerous sorcerer, with his ridiculous leek-like gravity-defying hair and a face capable of putting the most gorgeous townsmen to shame. So this sorcerer’s name is Senku. Oh god, Gen really has the worst luck. Why didn’t he think of fleeing this city a little earlier?

“Senku, this is Gen,” Chrome introduces, completely oblivious to Gen’s internal babbling, “Gen, this is Senku, the sorcerer I was telling you about. Senku’s meant to be passing by, but I’m sure he can help you somehow.”

Recognition flashes in those red eyes, but to his credit, Senku otherwise displays no signs to anyone else in the room that he knows Gen.

Instead, Senku looks at Gen and asks, “what do you need help with?”

“Nothing of significance,” Gen says, smiling. Demure and polite. Somehow, he has a feeling that no one in the room’s buying it.

Three voices pipe up at once, each trying to summarise Gen’s tragic life history in two sentences or so.

“He’s a familiar that can never seem to sync up with one magician,” Kohaku says, ever blunt.

“All of the magicians around here are pretty shitty though,” Chrome interjects, like he’s trying to defend Gen’s pride or something. “They don’t treat him right, put all these weird expectations on him, and throw him out when they get no use out of him.”

Ruri paints the saddest image of them all, as if Gen’s a lost puppy who just needs a forever-loving home. “Gen doesn’t have a roof over his head. He slept in the storm yesterday.”

Gen needs to get out now. Having a meltdown here will only prove that something is _truly_ wrong, so he tries to play it off. Like this whole thing doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t, he’s sure it doesn’t. “Guys, guuuuys,” he sing-songs, “you’re not explaining this to Senku right. Don’t you all remember how much I love being a free man? Having allegiances is awful! Bound, chained, shackled…that’s not the kind of life I want to lead.”

“Then,” Senku interrupts, gaze boring into Gen’s, “why do you continue to try things out with different magicians?”

Thankfully, Gen has an easy answer for that. “Because that’d give me an easy life, duh. The likes of you sorcerers won’t understand how difficult it is for familiars to survive.”

“Even if you hate allegiances, or anything threatening your freedom?” Senku challenges.

Senku may be smart, but Gen’s a fantastic liar when he needs to be. He twists his face into something monstrous, laughing like he has the world eating out of his hands. “Oh, you naïve thing. That’s precisely the reason why I never stick to one magician. Staying with them permanently means surrendering my freedom, so I get them to throw me out before that happens. It’s well-planned, see? I also get free hot showers and food here, so everything’s fine and dandy.”

If Kohaku had been furious, now she was downright murderous. “Gen, you --- !”

“Now that we’ve cleared everything up, I suppose you and Chrome can get back to your scholarly discussions,” Gen says, praying that the conversation’s over. He ambles to the kitchen, casting furtive glances at the backdoor. Beyond the door is a garden that leads right into the woods, which is convenient when quick getaways are necessary.

Senku’s next words are quiet but clear. “Are you really saying that, even when it was your magic that reached out to mine last night?”

Gen pauses, the wave of panic hitting him like a ton of bricks. He didn’t think Senku would bring it up in front of everyone, not when the dreamscape was an elaborate, crafty deception.

Wait. Something’s not adding up. If Senku’s discussing this with no hesitation in front of three strangers, then…

Senku huffs. “Do you finally get it now? I told you, there’s no trap. I’m not doing this to manipulate you, much less anyone else. Which brings me to my next question --- how long have you been trying to bond with a magician? Has there ever been a time when those attempts have worked as well as my dream magic last night?”

Gen cannot _even_. If he’s hearing this right, then what Senku’s implying is…

“Wait,” Chrome interjects, “you two know each other?”

“Oh. Remember the dream magic I told you about? The one I had no leads on for a long time? With Gen’s help, I had a breakthrough last night.”

“What? That’s fantastic! But how…?”

Senku launches into teacher-mode, explaining the weird nuances of magic, the power of the human mind, and some psychology crap that Gen doesn’t care to focus on. What he really cares about is the fact that everyone else in the room is distracted by this newfound discovery, which makes it the perfect time for Gen to make an escape.

For escapes like these, swiftness is of the essence. It’s going to be pretty dramatic, but extreme situations call for extreme measures.

Gen throws open the backdoor with a loud bang, sprinting across the Café’s gardens like his life depends on it. The area is blessed with a dense forest, the kind large enough for unfortunate hikers to get lost in. He hears yelling from a distance, but Gen already has his feet in the shadow of the woods.

Once he’s confident that no one can see him, he transforms.

In his familiar form, Gen can flee even quicker than ever. His four legs are wiry and lithe, taking him across shrubbery, rock, and river like they’re nothing but paper obstacles. His vision is better. His sense of smell is superb. Even under the pressure of escaping, Gen feels free.

He stops only when he’s certain that he’s deep in the forest’s embrace. The trees block out most of the sunlight, but there’s otherwise nothing unsettling about the chirping birds or the sound of water rushing over rocks. He laps up some water, thirsty from all the running, and thinks of what to do next. 

Gen knows he only has a few options.

The first option was to escape to another city, far enough away from Senku’s stupid magic, and start out afresh --- but that meant finding new allies, which was bothersome. It also didn’t guarantee Gen living a Senku-free life forever. If Senku travelled around the country often --- and it sounded like he did --- they were bound to cross paths again.

The second option was for him to take up Senku’s offer.

Nope.

Gen’s not even going to go there.

The third option, more a procrastination tactic than an actual option at all, was for Gen to wait out in the woods in his familiar form. For how long, Gen doesn’t know. A few days, maybe a few weeks. Long enough for everyone to get sick and tired of waiting for him. Maybe he’ll wait out here for a few months. Is it safe to live in your familiar form for that long when you’re not bonded to a magician? He has no idea. He hears there are some downsides, but surely it’s doable.

The one thing Gen isn’t fond of, however, is _surviving_ in his familiar form.

He surrenders to the animalistic instincts, the ones that trigger every growl and snarl. He allows his enhanced sense of smell to lead him to smaller animals, uses every neuron in his fragmented brain to anticipate the right moment to pounce. The human part of him would have balked at the amount of violence used, but the animal in him rejoices. Gen’s alive. Being alive is great. Being alive is _important._

_Being alive is all about caution._

Gen doesn’t think there are other predators that stand above him in the food chain, but he needs to be careful.

_Being alive is about being free._

What do the likes of magicians know? Who needs magic anyway? He’ll live out here for the rest of his life. In the forest, he’s strong. Invincible. Gen’s teeth tear into bloody meat and messy fur, relishing in the rubbery texture of meat before he chews and swallow. It’s more delicious than a can of Cola on a hot summer’s day.

_Being alive is terrifying._

Gen licks any remains off the bones. Food is plentiful out here, but there’s no need to be wasteful.

_Being alive is exciting._

Why is he still hungry? Has he always been this hungry? The rabbit didn’t do enough to fill him up. He needs something bigger, something with more meat to spare. Gen sniffs the air and makes his way through tree and shrub, desperate for something --- anything else.

He does find a deer. It’s a tiny, innocent thing that didn’t have the energy to put up a fight.

Gen doesn’t want to kill it right away. The deer’s looking at him with incredibly watery doe-eyes, the kind that makes you want to hurt it some more just to see if it would cry. So the sick, twisted part of Gen decides to have a fun little game, because entertainment out here in the forest is scarce when you only have greenery and stupid animals around. He rips and tears at the deer, not enough to kill, but enough to make it really hurt.

He’ll finish this once he gets bored.

Gen hears the sound of fluttering wings, and looks up to see a large hawk perched on a tree branch. Its feathers are sandy, almost gold. Blue eyes glare right at him. The expression is weirdly familiar.

“I don’t recall you being this vulgar,” the hawk says, and Gen suddenly jolts back into awareness. He’s swamped with blurry images of feral anger and sharp claws, and comes to the startling realisation that he has been acting on auto-pilot for a while now.

Still, he growls, because that’s the only thing he knows. “Go away, Kohaku.”

“You’ve been out here for three days.” Strange, Gen doesn’t recall that much time passing by. “Isn’t it time you returned? We’re worried for you, asshole.”

“I’m quite happy out here, thank you very much.” 

Kohaku, of all things, squawks indignantly. “Any longer out here in that form and you’ll lose your mind! You’re an unbonded familiar, don’t forget.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.”

“Are you? Because it sure looks like you’ve been going on a rampage out here.” If Kohaku had a human nose, Gen knows it’d be wrinkled in disgust.

Gen lifts his head, eyes the mess of gore, bone and flies littering his surroundings. Human Gen and his delicate senses would certainly have been appalled. Deep down, he knows Kohaku is right.

“We’ve gotten to know Senku over the past few days. He’s not a bad person, Gen. Why are you so afraid of giving him a chance?”

“He’s dangerous,” Gen says shortly.

Kohaku flaps her wings, settling herself on Gen’s shoulder. It’s a bold move, considering how Gen only needs to shift slightly for his teeth to sink into her feathers. “Because he’s capable of giving you the one thing you’ve been looking for?” Gen doesn’t answer, but Kohaku seems to understand anyway. “I’m going to tell you something, and I’m only saying it once, so pay attention. A long time ago, before Chrome had even met Ruri and I, Ruri was sick. Really sick.”

Gen sits on his haunches. He has never been told this.

“We were children back then, barely scraping thirteen. Mum and dad tried everything, from doctors to specialists from all over the country. Nothing worked. Our parents panicked for a few reasons. They loved her, sure, but Ruri was blessed with magic, not I.”

“I don’t understand,” Gen says. “Ruri has no magic. I’ve never sensed any from her.”

“I’m not finished. We met Chrome, who discovered the one thing that no doctor or magician had been able to figure out. Ruri’s magic was killing her. No one believed us, because how could a human blessed with magic be simultaneously cursed with it? But Chrome believed that the only way Ruri would survive was if her magic was transferred to someone else. A compatible host, so to speak.”

Gen can’t believe his ears. He has never heard of anything so outrageous. “You…”

“Transferring her magic to me was risky. We had no precedent to rely on, nothing but ourselves and the faith in our bonds. Somehow Ruri’s magic gave me the essence of a familiar, which is why I’m here like this,” Kohaku says, nipping at Gen with a sharp beak. Ouch. “My point is, there’s so much about magic we don’t understand. Many magicians are arrogant, thinking they know it all. The ones we truly need are the ones who continue to explore, invent, and change the world. Don’t you see? The world needs people like Chrome. People like Senku. And when they come to us, we should at the very least hear what they have to say. You’re an asshole, Gen, but you’re not stupid.”

She nips at Gen again, this time at his ears, but for some reason it’s the closest thing to camaraderie Gen has ever felt.

***

It’s Gen’s terrible, terrible luck that he encounters a trap while hunting. The snap at his leg is loud, shooting pain through his entire body like he’s been burned. Black spots dance in his vision. He lets loose a howl --- the loudest and most inhuman one he has ever had the misfortune of producing --- before collapsing to the ground.

Gen’s not an expert in hunting, but the offending contraption looks like one of those foothold traps he has seen on television. There are blood-stained jaws clamping down on his paw, a chain anchoring the trap to the ground, and _fuck_ it all why did this have to happen? He stops struggling because he knows that would mangle his foot even more, but beyond that Gen doesn’t know what else to do.

He must have passed out for god knows how long, because when he comes to his surroundings are darker. The sun must be almost down.

Right on cue, Gen hears the crunch of leaves and the sound of shoes scuffling against soil. He jumps up, terror coursing through his veins, because of course whoever sets this trap is going to come checking on it. Gen tries to yank his foot out, knowing that it’s a stupid move, and almost blacks out again when the trap’s metal teeth dig even further into his flesh. His scrabbling grows frantic, more urgent.

“Shit, shit, shit.” A figure is running forward, leek-coloured hair standing out in the forest’s shadows. “Stop that, you’re going to make it worse. Damn, when Kohaku said to follow the mess, this wasn’t what I was expecting.”

Gen is quaking and shivering, brain foggy from the pain. He snarls and bares his fangs, a clear warning for the human to back off.

The human stops a few feet away, hands held up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s me, Senku.”

Recognition registers. It’s Senku, who speaks to Gen in his dreams. It's Senku, who's clever and resourceful. It's Senku, who isn't out to kill Gen. Help me, Senku. _Help._

“You are,” Gen growls, voice scratchy from disuse, “literally the last person I wanted to see.”

“As opposed to the hunter who set this up? Sure. Now stop your yapping.” Senku, completely ignorant of the threat Gen poses to him, steps forward and works on dismantling the trap. His eyes narrow at what he sees --- probably at Gen’s mess of a paw --- but then he focuses, working methodically until he successfully unclamps the jaws of the trap.

There’s a reprieve from the worst part of the pain, but Gen’s still panting heavily. 

“River. Now.” Senku looks Gen up and down. “I’m guessing you can’t transform back into a human just yet?” At Gen’s pained huff, Senku continues, “that’s fine. I’m not sure how that injury will look on you as a human anyway. Best to get this fixed as it currently is. Can you walk?”

Gen stands, gingerly, careful not to put any weight on the injured paw. He grunts, an affirmation.

“I can carry you,” Senku offers.

There’s no way Senku’s scrawny arms could even lift Gen off the ground. “Absolutely not.”

“Suit yourself.” Senku’s reply is brusque, but Gen knows he’s being carefully watched as he hobbles with three functioning legs to the river at snail’s pace. It’s almost completely dark now but Senku moves efficiently, lighting a portable lantern and pulling out a portable first aid kit from his backpack. He gently takes Gen’s paw with a hand, lowering it into the water without a word of warning.

Gen howls again, tears burning the corner of his eyes. Distantly, he hears Senku chanting, muttering, free hand drawing sigils over the water’s surface.

After what feels like an eternity, the burn begins to fade. It’s replaced with the cool sensation of flowing water, along with an undercurrent of something else. Nothing electrifying like a thunderclap, but a thrumming energy that reminds Gen of adrenaline. It’s vibrant yet soothing at the same time, washing over Gen and pouring into him.

Instinct makes Gen close his eyes, drawing closer to that feeling. Gen wants more, even if he doesn’t know what this is. He reaches out and tugs, unthinkingly, almost crying in relief when it yields.

“How does that feel?” Senku asks, and the trance is broken.

Gen feels better. Much better, in fact. Not only is the pain gone, but so are some of the other lingering discomforts --- his hunger, some scratches he previously sustained. He grudgingly admits this to Senku, who only laughs.

“It’s great, isn’t it? I transferred some of my life force to you. It’s the most effective healing technique out there, but it’s also banned for obvious reasons. Anyway, I don’t know if I did that ten billion per cent correctly, so I’m going to give you a bandage. Sit still.”

Gen freezes. “You…what did you say?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Senku unrolls some bandages, slapping them on Gen’s paw with well-practised moves. “Transferring life force isn’t as threatening as it sounds. Life force regenerates, so it’s not like I’ve given you a few years of my life or whatever. I’ll sleep extra well tonight, but that’s about it.”

“You gave me your _life force_? What the hell is wrong with you?” Gen demands.

Senku grins back, rummaging through his pack and pulling out a tent bag. “Come on, let’s go find a camping spot. I think I saw a good one not far from here.”

Gen noses the polyester material, sniffing disdainfully. “Are you actually thinking of camping out here tonight?”

“ _We_ are camping out here tonight,” Senku corrects. “I came prepared. Didn’t know how long it’d take for me to find you, after all. It’s my second night out in the woods.”

Gen’s throat goes dry. “You’ve been walking for two days?”

“I have the blisters to prove it.”

“Why didn’t you ask Kohaku or Chrome to come with you?”

Senku shrugs. “I wanted to do this alone.”

“You could’ve been killed by the wildlife out here.”

“Eh, I managed.”

“ _I_ could have mauled you to death,” Gen says, baring his teeth to prove a point.

“Yeah,” Senku agrees amiably, like they’re talking about the weather.

Gen ponders on this new piece of information as Senku pitches their tent, a serviceable one just barely fitting two. He doesn’t know what to make of Senku’s abrasive but heroic tendencies.

Kohaku had made her opinion of Senku clear. _He’s not a bad person, Gen._

Senku pulls out more camping equipment from his pack, things like a camp stove, pre-packed food parcels, cup noodles, and…beef jerky. It’s ridiculous. Senku waves the beef jerky in front of Gen, grinning slyly. Like an owner trying to feed his pet.

Gen pounces on it, his teeth only missing Senku’s fingers by centimetres. He ignores Senku’s screech of “that’s dangerous!” and chomps it down. But then Senku’s laughing and digging into his own food, not at all offended.

There really isn’t a lot of space in the tent, which means Gen finds himself curling up next to Senku once he’s full and sleepy. The lantern’s glow accentuates the shadows on Senku’s face, illuminating dark circles under his eyes.

Silence stretches on until Senku quietly asks, “can I touch you?”

Gen’s mind short-circuits at first, but then he realises what Senku’s asking permission for. This man, Gen thinks fondly, is asking if he can _pet_ Gen --- even when Gen’s the one in his debt now.

So when Gen says “I don’t mind”, he actually means it.

Warm fingers slide through the fur on his head --- slowly, tentatively --- before gradually straying, moving downwards to his nape, back, and moving back to where they started. A repetitive motion, simple yet rhythmic. Senku’s fingers scratch the back of his ears, then under his chin. Gen tilts his head up, closes his eyes.

It’s intimate, painfully so, that Gen thinks he may fall apart. He can’t remember the last time anyone has ever touched him like this.

Because Gen’s a wolf.

Most familiars are small animals, the cute kinds easy to carry and bring around. Dogs, cats, rabbits, frogs, birds, the usual variety. Gen doesn’t transform often, because the one time he did, it almost got him shot (which is ironic, considering how he lives in a society where weirder things exist). So he’s human most of the time, only transforming into a wolf when he aches to be near the full moon.

He’s not a handsome wolf either. Annoyingly, Gen’s half head of black and white hair has given his fur the precise combination of monochrome, split from the top of his head to his tail. If Gen was in a colouring book, no kid would ever have a problem getting the colours right. He’s a wolf, half-black, half-white, kind of lean and skinny, average sized. Nothing fantastic. In a fight with a real werewolf, Gen knows he wouldn’t win.

“Soft,” Senku murmurs, more to himself than Gen.

 _Oh,_ Gen thinks, heart swelling with warmth.

In hindsight, he blames the animal in him. No, he blames the stupid trap, and the annoying injury. That’s what trauma does to you, right? It makes you vulnerable. Entices you to seek comfort. Yes, that’s good enough to explain what happens next.

Because Gen nuzzles up to Senku --- bearing his whole wolf-weight and all --- and decides that it’s a fantastic idea to _lick_ Senku’s stupidly handsome face.

Said stupidly handsome man blinks and stares, hand hovering where he had been touching Gen.

Oh no, ohhh no. Oh no no no no no. Did he just --- oh god.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Gen says eloquently, executing a half-aborted wiggle where he tries to move away from Senku’s side. It works about as well as a sad robot trying to do backflips. Senku’s still staring, like he’s trying his best to process what had just happened. Gen doesn’t blame him. 

Senku, the gentleman, had asked for _permission_ to pet him _._ And how does Gen repay him? By licking his face, like a mutt would. It’s so mortifying that Gen half-wishes he was still stuck in the trap, shattered leg and all. “Sorry, that was --- that was a thing, like an animal thing, it didn’t mean anything at all, you’re covered in dog cooties and maybe rabies so make sure you get that checked out once you get back, good god I’m sorry --- why are you laughing?”

Senku’s laughing. He’s laughing so hard that his shoulders are shaking.

“Senku?” It’s Gen’s turn to be baffled, shooting a silent prayer to the higher powers that Senku hasn’t lost his marbles.

“Come here,” Senku says, scooping Gen into his arms. Gen doesn’t know whether to be mad or not now that he’s pretty much a lapdog. But then Senku sighs, burying his face into Gen’s fur. “Your fur’s soft, but you smell like wet dog and poop. You’ll need a good shower when we get back. With extra conditioner.”

“That would be nice,” Gen admits, too distracted by the fact that Senku’s cuddling him than the unattractive notion of smelling bad. And because now’s the right time, he hesitantly adds, “thanks for…you know. Getting me out of that trap. Helping me out.” He sort of wants to apologise for being a dick, but decides not to go that far. Yet.

Senku’s next words are slow, cautious. “You were out in the woods by yourself for almost a week.”

A week? Man, Gen really did lose track of time. “I guess?”

“Before that, what was the longest period you went without transforming back into a human?”

Gen considers this. “A couple of hours at most.”

Senku’s hold on Gen’s fur tightens so imperceptibly that Gen suspects even Senku doesn’t know he’s doing it.

“You didn’t recognise me,” Senku says, “or Kohaku, when you first saw us.” 

Gen splutters. “Context, Senku, context. Kohaku showed up as a _bird._ How was I meant to know it was her? And you made your grand entrance when I was being devoured by a trap, so forgive me if I was a little slow on the uptake.”

Senku gives Gen a noogie. “We’re a little past these games now. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Gen.”

Gen does know. He pictures the bloodbath, remembers the way he flew through the forest, a wild and feral beast. “I got hungry and apparently have poor table manners?”

 _“Gen._ ” 

The urge to hide from Senku’s reprimanding tone is strong, but it doesn’t look like Senku’s going to stop asking questions until he gets a forthcoming answer from Gen. He also has Gen trapped in his arms, that sneaky little shit, which means there’s no place for Gen to run.

Gen doesn’t do honesty. Being a liar is comfortable, routine. Lying has helped Gen all his life, from escaping trouble to avoiding confrontations.

But Gen also knows that it’s sheer luck no unsuspecting humans crossed his path during his rampage. If Gen hurt someone, he doesn’t know if he could ever forgive himself.

“I guess I was irresponsible,” Gen admits.

Senku raises his eyebrows. “That’s one way to put it. Sure, what you did was irresponsible, but I think you’re getting the wrong idea here. I’m not asking you to blame yourself, or to say that this whole thing was your fault.”

“Wasn’t it? We both know other people could’ve been hurt.”

“ _You_ got hurt,” Senku reminds him, “and got close to losing yourself.”

Gen whines, involuntarily, at the sharp tone in Senku’s voice. He understands that he’s not being scolded, but the conversation is still confronting in a way he’s not used to. Not now, Gen thinks. Not now. So Gen indicates his displeasure by shooting Senku the nastiest glare he can muster, relief washing through him when Senku gets the message and rolls his eyes.

It’s not a stalemate, but a compromise. They’ll be talking about this later, Gen’s sure of it.

“Get some sleep,” Senku says, ruffling Gen’s fur. “We’ll head back tomorrow.” 

And Gen, not knowing what else to say, agrees.

***

Chrome pulls Senku and (a very human) Gen into a crushing group hug when he sees them. Ruri joins in, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. Kohaku barks at them to get into the shower, claiming that her shower deserves better than filth and mud. Still, she elbows Gen and pats Senku on the back, so surely she means well.

Nonchalantly, Senku calls, “do you need someone to wash your back?”

“Absolutely not,” Gen answers cheerily, slamming the door in Senku’s face.

(Senku sounds confused. “What’s wrong with him?” 

“Isn’t that obvious? He’s embarrassed.” There’s something gleeful in Kohaku’s voice, as if she thinks this whole thing is payback for the shit Gen has put her through.)

Embarrassed? Of course he is. Gen’s mind can’t stop replaying every single scene, touch, and conversation between him and Senku last night. Gen deliberately kept his answers short but polite as they made their way back this morning, cursing how his heart fluttered every time he looked at Senku.

The whole thing’s appalling, because Gen went from hating this guy to sort-of-tolerating-maybe-even-liking-him in the span of twenty-four hours, and Gen doesn’t know what to do.

He scrubs hard, determined to be squeaky clean, and even uses some floral-scented conditioner most certainly belonging to Ruri. Ha, take that, Senku. I’m going to be so soft and fluffy you won’t know what hit you --- wait, no. That doesn’t sound right. What the hell? Gen splashes water over his face. He hates his life.

When they’ve both cleaned up (Gen deliberately does not comment on how _delectable_ Senku looks post-shower, from the messy, unbrushed hair to the damp droplets sliding past his neck), Ruri makes them breakfast and suggests they stay for the next few nights. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Senku says, shovelling pancakes into his mouth.

“What?” Gen exclaims. “I can’t accept that!”

Predictably, everyone ignores him.

The Café is shut for the day, so they spend the afternoon doing typical group activities like playing card games. Gen really gets to show off then --- it’s the one thing he’s truly good at, and seeing everyone’s frustrated expressions makes the effort worth it.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU,” Kohaku screams, pointing an accusatory finger at Gen. “YOU’RE CHEATING!”

Gen smirks, revealing his three complete property sets in Monopoly Deal --- undeniable victory. “That’s what sore losers say, Kohaku.”

Senku tosses his cards aside, sticks a finger in his ear. “Don’t get cocky,” he says to Gen, “I saw through your strategy from the very beginning. I just thought it’d be funny to see you win.”

Gen understands that they’re trying not to overwhelm him. The attempt at normality is their way of welcoming him back to the human world, and Gen thinks he appreciates that. Smiling doesn’t feel as difficult, and Gen even catches himself laughing at the funny things Chrome says.

He feels eyes on him, knows that Senku’s observing.

Night comes. Dinner is another pleasant affair, with Gen trading more barbs with Kohaku on one end of the table while Chrome and Senku discuss intellectual magic things on the other. Ruri flits in between the conversations, her sweet smile never faltering.

Eventually, they call it a night. In a cliché decision enforced by Kohaku, Senku and Gen end up sharing the room with a huge double bed. Gen’s complaints are quickly shot down, because she’s clearly setting this up so that Senku and Gen can talk. How bothersome.

Well, whatever. Gen ignores the pounding in his heart and curls up in bed, feeling his eyelids grow heavy within seconds. The bed is lumpy but comfortable, piled up with a mountain of patchwork blankets and quilts. He burrows deeper, relishing in the soft slide of clean sheets against skin.

The spot next to him dips, and Gen doesn’t protest when a familiar hand cards through his hair. He sighs, the sound involuntary, and moves closer to the owner of said hand.

“The hair’s not as soft as fur, ‘m afraid,” Gen mumbles.

He hears an amused huff in response. “What are you talking about? The conditioner worked wonders.”

Gen’s eyes are still closed when the petting stops, and they remain closed as the sheets rustle. He assumes Senku’s making himself comfortable. Bedtime and all, you know?

But then Senku’s rolling up the hems of Gen’s pyjama pants, hands wandering and _feeling_ Gen’s legs with zero hesitation whatsoever. Gen yelps --- he’s wide awake now, mind going into overdrive with a variety of inappropriate thoughts.

“I’m checking your leg, dumbass,” comes the response.

Gen squeaks. “It’s healing fine, all thanks to you.” He’s not lying, either. There’s a yucky imprint of the metal jaws on his calf and the skin there is bumpy and raised, but that’s about it. Shit, Senku’s literally _breathing_ on Gen’s skin _._ If this continues, Gen’s not going to be able to hide just how attractive he thinks Senku is. “C’mon, Senku.”

Senku must be satisfied with what he sees, because he nods at Gen without further protest. Gen’s mouth goes dry --- the silvery moonlight streaming through the window makes Senku look like an angel, if angels had piercing red eyes and vegetable-looking hair.

“Gen, can we try something?”

 _Anything for you_ , Gen thinks, rubbing his eyes. “That depends. What do you have in mind?”

Senku cracks his knuckles, expression eager. “Magic.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Magic,” Senku repeats. “You, me. Let’s try it.”

“Senku, um. That’s very flattering of you to suggest, but I don’t have any magical talent to speak of. Every single magician who tried has gotten zero magic out of me. And when I say zero, I mean it. They get absolutely nothing. Nada. Nil. Zilch.”

Senku snorts. “Says the guy who reacted to my dream spell and transforms into a wolf for shits and giggles. Just give it a go, there’s something I want to test.”

“If you’re sure,” Gen murmurs, looking away. He doesn’t want to see the moment when Senku’s boyish excitement transforms into disappointment.

“Here,” Senku offers, “you can hold my hand.”

Gen stares at the outstretched hand. They’re facing each other, sitting so closely that their feet touch. It’s déjà vu, like how Senku held Gen’s injured paw in the forest.

Senku’s always reaching out, always offering things Gen can’t have.

Gen takes Senku’s hand, praying that Senku doesn’t notice how he’s trembling. But of course Senku notices --- he places the other hand on top so that Gen’s hand is firmly clasped, and Gen suddenly wonders whether this is how a high school girl in a romance manga feels when she’s about to get confessed to.

“Breathe,” Senku orders. Gen exhales noisily, not even realising that he’s holding his breath. “And close your eyes.”

Gen obeys, even when the total darkness is terrifying. Senku’s warm hands are the only thing anchoring Gen to his current sense of reality, so Gen squeezes tighter, hoping that Senku doesn’t comment on it.

Senku doesn’t, thank god. Instead, he says to Gen, “can you picture the stars that we saw from our dream in your head?”

“I…I can try, yeah.” Gen draws on his memory reserves, trying to conjure the fantastical image in his mind. Colours, constellations, a vastness great and incomprehensible. Gen concentrates. Bites his lip. Puts all his energy into the task.

Then, just like that, there’s a _snap_ and Gen’s body jerks like he’s burned. It’s a familiar sensation, one he gets when he tries to perform magic and fails. There it is, Gen thinks, bitter of the failure Senku just witnessed.

“Stop moping,” Senku grouses, “and just fucking relax. You’re pushing yourself too hard, it’s stifling your magic instead of letting it flow.”

“I can’t. This is how I’ve always…” Gen’s voice cracks, unable to finish his sentence. It’s how he always tried to make things work. The more he fails, the harder he pushes himself. It’s a practice engrained in him, a shitty self-destructive cycle.

Gen must look miserable, because Senku’s voice softens. “I asked you to think of the stars not because I wanted you to picture every single detail accurately, but because I wanted you to remember _how_ you felt when you saw them.”

“Right. What does that have to do with magic?”

“Are you kidding? It has everything to do with magic. Close your eyes again.”

Gen remembers how he felt the very first night he saw the stars in their dream, of course. He had felt serene, at peace. In that moment, Gen saw no need to run away. For whatever reason, Gen had latched onto Senku’s weird spell in his sleep, trusting it to keep him safe.

Slowly, his mind empties, the earlier panic fading away. He doesn’t focus on the dark and ugly part of him that worries about his failures. Instead, Gen pictures light, and the feelings that come with it. Unwavering trust. Joyous wonder. Faith, belief --- if not in himself, then in someone who can be there for him, someone who he can cherish and be cherished in return. That thought stirs something in Gen, a tiny _something_ that’s aching to be explored. Gen wants to freefall into it, but a stab of fear stops him.

 _Come here._ It’s Senku’s voice, except he’s not actually speaking out loud, but Gen hears it in his head anyway. He follows unthinkingly, hypnotised and entranced. 

Then Gen sees something he doesn’t expect.

It’s Senku, but it’s not the Senku he knows today. This Senku is a child, face round with baby fat, small arms flailing. A teddy bear next to child-Senku levitates off the ground, and Gen watches with amusement as Senku trots around, arms still carelessly waving, testing to see if he can make any other items in the room float. Most of them are small things, light enough to be carried by a child. Still, the glint of determination in those red eyes isn’t a fluke, because Senku experiments some more by kicking his feet and striking different poses to see if they yield different results.

Gen wants to laugh. Trust Senku to push the boundaries of magic, even as a child.

The scene shifts. The Senku he sees is slightly older, but still no more than twelve. He’s walking side by side with a man, grey-haired and moustached. They strangely resemble each other despite the lack of similarity in features --- both Senku and the man are huffing and puffing, hauling a large load of books in their arms. They’re bickering, Gen can see that, but he can’t hear anything they’re saying.

“Trust my traitorous mind to show you this,” Senku grumbles, and Gen almost jumps when he sees Senku --- the Senku he knows --- standing next to him. “I told dad we should’ve used magic, but he insisted we carry those books the old-fashioned way so that my muscles wouldn’t atrophy and ‘look like skinny twigs forever, Senku’. Always had a way with words, that man.”

“That’s your father?” Gen asks, trying to find the familial resemblance again but failing.

“We’re not related by blood,” Senku clarifies. “A bunch of things happened when I was a kid and Byakuya ended up taking me in. He was strange, but he catered to my interest in magic. Bought me all the books on magic I wanted, even when he barely understood them.”

“Your dad isn’t a magic user?”

“No. That limited his career options, but there was one thing he really wanted to do.” Senku’s smile is wistful. “He wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Did he succeed?”

Senku laughs. “Sure did. Wasn’t easy, though. Magic users tend to get priority so I tried to make him a device which would fool the interviewing panel into thinking that he could use magic, but he refused to use it because he claimed it was cheating. Now that I think of it, that device I gave to him was shitty and didn’t do much except spout water fountains in the air. Still, he must’ve impressed them because they wanted him, magic user or not.”

“That’s incredible,” Gen breathes. He can already imagine teenage-Senku staying awake on late nights, determined to perfect a creation through trial and error. “Is your father currently in space?”

A shadow falls over Senku’s face, but it’s gone before Gen can decipher it. “Ah, he’s dead…”

Gen freezes.

“…or so the official news reports say. More accurately, his whereabouts are unknown. There was an accident to the spacecraft _Soyuz_. Whatever happened resulted in the _Soyuz_ disappearing, vanishing from everyone’s cameras. As if it were sucked in by a blackhole --- or,” Senku’s eyes narrow, “an alternate dimension, most likely by magic.”

Gen knows this. He remembers seeing the headlines as a teenager, hearing the people around him discuss it in hushed whispers. He didn’t give it much thought back then, but things are different now. Senku’s arms are folded, staring in the distance at something Gen can’t see.

“Sucked into an alternate dimension by magic…” Gen ponders the logicality of it. If that magic was engineered by the _Soyuz_ crew, then they certainly bore a high risk. That kind of riskiness didn’t make sense, and most certainly wouldn’t be legal. Which could only mean one thing. “It wasn’t an accident, then?”

The scene changes again, and this time Gen’s treated to a scene where teenage-Senku is watching the live telecast of the _Soyuz_ disappearance in his living room. Teenage-Senku’s face is hard as stone, expression indecipherable. Still, because they’re in Senku’s memories, Gen acutely feels the sense of loss teenage-Senku feels. There’s an intensity in the grief that makes Gen shudder. 

“I don’t know if it was foul play,” Senku says, scowling at the younger version of himself, “but it was definitely deliberate.”

Whatever this is, Gen knows he has stumbled on something big. There’s no doubt this is something Senku has been trying to solve for years, and if he doesn’t have the answers, Gen won’t have them either. There’s nothing Gen can do to make this right.

“I’m ten billion per cent certain that dad’s alive, though. He may not be a magic user, but he’s sturdier than he looks. Wherever he is, he’s definitely trying to make his way back to earth. Which is why I’ve been trying to contact him.”

Gen puzzles over this. “Contact him how?”

He receives an answering grin in response. “What you experienced on the first night we met was one of those initiatives. Through dreams.”

The answer hits Gen like a ton of bricks, because everything suddenly makes sense. Of course. _Of course._ The strange dreamscape. Senku’s attempt at experimenting with dream magic. Except Gen had been wary, perceiving the dream as a trap.

“I did think of other methods that had fewer variables. Dream magic’s still relatively unexplored, after all. Too volatile, too new age for most magicians to even consider tinkering with. But I wanted to give it a shot. For all we know, dad could be in some deep, engineered cryonic sleep. Without having the vaguest location of where the _Soyuz_ is, I can’t fully rely on more scientific methods like radio communication. There’s also a high chance of interception, which would be annoying for me. If there’s anything that has a chance of working --- it would be connecting to someone through a dream.” Pride colours Senku’s next words. “For months, my spells for dream magic refused to work. Until you came along.”

Gen feels weak all over. “That doesn’t mean anything. What happened was a fluke.”

“I don’t think so.” Senku gestures to the space around them, where Senku’s memories are still playing like a record. “Otherwise, what would you call this?”

“I..I don’t know. What is it?”

Senku smiles, his eyes so bright that Gen feels butterflies in his stomach. “This is a bond, Gen.”

“A bond?” Gen wets his lips, noticing how Senku’s eyes follow the movement. “Are you sure? Like, a real bond?”

“Yeah? I asked you to come to me, and you responded. Remember?”

“Sure, but it felt…” Natural, Gen wants to say. Like coming home. Like there was nothing else that mattered. “…Good,” Gen finishes lamely.

“I should hope so, considering this is how bonds are formed.”

“But Senku, we can’t be bonded!” Gen yells, feeling only slightly apologetic when Senku winces. The weird mind meld thing comes to an end, and Gen blinks rapidly so that the room and Senku’s face --- inches from his --- come into focus. 

“Aaaah?” Senku grumbles. “Too bad. Welcome to the world of being bonded, you paranoid familiar.”

“We have to undo it! There must be ways, right? Right? You really don’t want to be bonded with me, because it means we’ll be stuck together for a long, loooong time. If anything, I’d say it’s almost like being _married._ ”

“I mean, yeah? Calling it marriage is a bit overdramatic, but not wrong.”

“Exactly! Don’t you see the problem here?”

“Not really. Is there one?”

“I’m not --- I’m not your familiar.” Gen winces as he says it, but he thinks Senku needs a reality check.

“Oh, that’s an easy fix.” Senku’s cheeks are dark, but it’s likely to be a trick of the light. “Gen, will you be my familiar?”

Gen sputters. Feels his brain shut down. Reboots. “Wuh --- wuh --- what?” He grabs the nearest pillow, shoving it into Senku’s face. “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ONLY ASKING ME THIS AFTER WE’VE BONDED? Also, why bond with me? Why even want me as a familiar? Why make it sound like a proposal? AaaAH, what on earth is wrong with you? You’re infuriating, Senku!”

“In my defence, you’re infuriating as well!” Senku screeches, seizing a pillow of his own to bat Gen’s away. “You take ridiculous risks, hurt yourself, think lowly of your abilities, and distrust everyone to the point of ruin! But you, you’re capable of incredible things. Someone needs to show you how, someone who --- argh, you’re so annoying, I can’t believe I’m going to have to do this now!” 

Before Gen can ask what the hell Senku’s talking about, Senku grabs his face with two hands, and smashes his mouth against Gen’s.

There’s a second where Gen’s mind is filled with nothing but a series of exclamation marks. Bold, and in extra-large font. The warmth on his lips is ten billion per cent Senku, who is executing the most ungraceful, unpractised, unceremonious kiss ever. The zero coordination means Gen is at the height of extreme unpreparedness, so he’s making noises which may be a series of squeaks. Or moans. Or both. 

God, they suck at kissing.

Once Gen has recovered from the exhilarating fact that he’s being kissed, he decides to respond in kind. Pulling Senku closer so that they’re flush against each other, Gen kisses back with all the vigour of a touch-starved man. This surprises a muffled sound out of Senku, which, hey. Isn’t a bad sign at all. Gen wants to hear all the sounds he can elicit out of Senku with a mere kiss, so he coaxes Senku’s mouth open some more and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in. It’s worth the effort, because the groan he receives in response does funny things to Gen’s dick.

The kiss becomes more heated, sloppier, less coordinated. They’re making filthy sounds, hands roaming everywhere they dared touch. Gen’s hands sneakily trail under Senku’s shirt so that he can map the smooth planes of Senku’s chest, and Senku’s grip is tight around Gen’s waist.

Just when Gen thinks he’s about to burst from the pressure building in his chest, they break away for air. Senku looks half-wrecked, hair mussed and lips shiny. Gen doesn’t think he looks any better. 

“When I saw you in the forest, I thought I’d lost you,” Senku confesses, eyes shining in the moonlight. “Then you sassed me and said I was the last person you wanted to see. Man, I was so relieved. It meant that you were still _you_.”

“I did come close to losing myself, actually. Thinking about how much you were a pain in the ass was what brought me back to reality.”

Senku chuckles. “Rude.”

“Right back at you. Who tries to bond with someone without asking?”

“I,” Senku sputters, sounding uncertain for the first time, “bonding is a two-way street, you know. There would have been no bond if you didn’t want it too, unless...wait. You didn’t answer my question. Do you want to…”

Gen rolls his eyes, but smiles. Seeing Senku flustered for a change is strangely satisfying. “Be your familiar? Yes, yes, sure, why not, et cetera, et cetera. To be clear, you kissed me before I could really respond, so.” And despite the casual way he puts it, Gen feels the weight of his promise encircle them both, the solemn nature of their words further binding them together as one.

“Oh.”

“Yes, _oh._ Congratulations, I’m your familiar and partner in crime. Bond mate. Boyfriend?” Gen scrunches his eyebrows in distaste. “God, I hate labels. They suck.”

“Then let’s not use them. Let’s just be Senku and Gen, the pioneers of a new frontier.”

“Senku, babe. You may be a genius at magic, but your name ideas are terrible.”

Senku shrugs. “So, bond mates? Sorcerer and familiar? Partners in crime? Boyfriends?”

“All of them,” Gen agrees.

Senku nods back, expression sombre. 

Gen drops his head on Senku’s chest, sighing contentedly when Senku’s arms automatically move to encircle him. “I want to help you find your dad. If you’re sure he’s out there, then he is.”

“You two will get along ridiculously well. He’ll fawn over you, call you his son-in-law, and tell you embarrassing stories about me. Then he’ll ask how you’d have the patience to put up with my shit, and praise you for having the guts to be my first familiar.”

Gen blinks. “I’m…your first familiar?”

“Huh?” Senku looks down at Gen. They stare at each other. “I thought it was obvious. You’re my very first familiar. No one else ever passed the test, so I’ve just been waiting until the right person showed up.”

“A test?” Gen whisper-yells, more affronted at the outrageous notion of a test than celebrating how he’s Senku’s first familiar. “When on earth was I tested?”

“Don’t take it so literally, geez. I just meant that you met my standards!”

“Why, thank you,” Gen says sardonically, even though he has no idea what Senku’s standards are.

“I don’t know why I need to spell this out to you,” Senku grumbles, leaning down so that he can press another soft peck to Gen’s mouth. Gen glares back, refusing to be distracted by Senku’s peculiar wooing habits. “You question things. You challenge me. If there’s a situation that doesn’t seem right, you find ways to protect yourself. Now that’s not always a good thing, especially when those tactics are detrimental to your wellbeing, but I respect your willpower.” Senku’s grinning, like he thinks Gen’s tendency to piss everyone off is hilarious. “It’s confusing, because you do all of that while trying not to hurt the people around you. I mean, you literally _ran away_ from help. When we were in the forest, you were extremely suspicious of my presence, yet you worried for me. None of that made sense at all.”

Gen raises an eyebrow. “Why, Senku, I was only worried that the weight of your backpack would squash you. You know, your non-existent muscles and all that.”

“You were concerned when I transferred my life force to you,” Senku remarks dryly.

“Only because I thought I’d reduced your life span by about ten years.”

“Because you cared,” Senku says, as matter-of-fact as he’s commenting on the weather. “Whether I was your enemy or not, you cared. Of course, that only made me want you more. Even from the very first time you accused me of trapping you in a dream, Asagiri Gen, I knew I liked you.”

Gen flushes. The confession is typically Senku, straightforward without embellishments. He thinks Senku deserves his honesty, so he confesses, “I suppose you’re alright. I knew you were powerful the moment I saw you, so I didn’t want to stir up any trouble. But you’re different. You don’t care about fame and glory like the other magicians do. You use your intelligence and abilities not to oppress others, but to improve mankind’s understanding of magic. You respect me, you treat me well, and I…I trust you, whatever it is you want to do.”

Senku’s eyes light up. “There’s so much about magic I want to show you. Oh man, you’re going to love it. Do you know there’s magic that influences the weather? It’s a combination of science and magic, which makes understanding it tricky, but I bet it could revolutionise the agricultural industry and reduce some of the effects of climate change. Then there’s this magic which could dry your wet laundry instantly, without any sunlight or dryer needed. I need to adjust the parameters for that, because if you input too much heat magic in it you end up setting your clothes on fire instead of just warming them up, but…”

The earlier fatigue returns with a vengeance. Gen struggles to fight it, tries to listens with rapt attention --- because Senku’s not just his sorcerer, he’s Gen’s bond mate. Senku, the man with extraordinary intelligence, the man who has dedicated his life in search of his father, the man who reached out to Gen even when Gen couldn't afford to trust anyone around him. Gen wants to stay awake. He wants to hear everything that Senku has to say, for now and for a long, long time.

But Gen’s also finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He shuts his eyes, first for five seconds, then for ten.

Then there’s darkness, peaceful and sweet, enshrouded in the knowledge that he’s safe by Senku’s side. The last thing he remembers is being tucked into bed by a pair of warm hands, and a whispered “sleep well,” into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, Senku and Gen save the world, and discover some important things in the process.

Gen likes to take his time when he wakes up in the morning. He usually stays in bed and marvels at the sensation of being cocooned in warmth, sluggish but well-rested, until the first rays of sunlight begin peeking through the window.

It is only then that Senku begins to stir. Unlike Gen, Senku’s quick to be awake and alert, mind already buzzing with tasks he must do for the day.

Gen is feeling extra lazy this morning, so he entwines his arms around Senku like a clingy octopus, a wordless demand for Senku to stay.

“I’m going to have to get up at some stage, you know.” Senku’s voice is rough, still addled with the remnants of slumber.

Gen nuzzles his nose into the crook of Senku’s neck, feigning sleep. 

Senku doesn’t buy it. “I know you’re awake. You suck at pretending.”

In response, Gen throws his icy feet over Senku’s. Senku huffs but doesn’t shake off Gen’s grip, which means Gen must be winning.

“Yeah,” Senku observes, “you’re definitely awake.”

“Five more minutes." It's worded as a plea.

Gen spent the past week sleeping, recovering, trying to recuperate his strength. Senku had also been falling asleep in different places, nodding off during meals and leaning against walls. All the rest was necessary to replenish their depleted reserves, but there are other reasons to be fresh for the coming days. Because while being able to stay at Kohaku’s has been convenient, they can’t keep this up forever. There are other things they must do. They’ll need brainpower, and lots of it, to come up with ideas and plans. 

Life is complex enough as it is. Gen wants to cherish the small moments, because he knows whatever’s coming next isn’t going to be easy.

Something on Gen’s face must betray his thoughts, because Senku sighs in defeat and goes pliant in Gen’s hold. “Five minutes,” he agrees.

Five minutes ends up being two hours. This time they fall asleep tucked up against each other, awaking covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Senku gazes down at Gen with something like fondness. “Breakfast?”

“Mm, yeah.” The smell of coffee is already wafting through the air.

Stone Café is operating in full swing when they make their way downstairs. Kohaku gives them a quick greeting from the counter, gesturing at them to help themselves to whatever they want from the kitchen. Gen grabs two coffees while Senku prepares toast and cereal. They sit by the window, taking in the hustle and bustle of customers entering and exiting.

Ruri smiles at them as she serves a customer the Stone Café’s breakfast special, but there’s no time for her to stop and chat. Chrome’s nowhere to be seen, most likely having stepped out to gather materials and ingredients. Stone Café is incredibly efficient as usual, functioning like a well-oiled machine.

Senku’s staring at his breakfast pensively, so Gen breaks the silence. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“You already know what I’m thinking,” Senku muses.

“Perhaps,” Gen says, wiping breadcrumbs from his mouth. “But sometimes it’s good to say things out loud, no?”

“I was thinking of what we’ll be doing from here on.”

As Gen suspected. “Well, what do you think? We can stay in this town if you wish, but perhaps at a lodging where we’re not giving Kohaku, Ruri and Chrome so much grief. We can most certainly head to another part of the country, if that’s a better option. Although,” Gen hesitates, “we’d make better decisions if you gave me more information about your...circumstances.”

Senku doesn’t seem offended by Gen’s frank comments. He does, however, give the Café a furtive glance. Nervousness? No, Gen thinks. Senku’s being careful with how much he shares.

Finally, Senku says, “you already know that I’m looking for my father. I’ve been travelling around the country, searching for hints and clues. I stay in each town as long I need, gathering data and carrying out experiments. Some towns give me good information, others don’t.”

None of this is surprising to Gen. “And this town?”

Scarlet eyes turn to regard Gen with a bemused expression. “This town gave me the best thing so far. It gave me you.”

“Ah.” Gen picks at his toast. “Staying here for a while may be our best course of option, then?” 

Senku nods, but it’s half-hearted, an acknowledgement of Gen’s suggestion than anything else.

Gen leans forward, double-checking that his body language remains open and inviting. “Senku, I understand we don’t know each other very well yet. I also understand that you’ve been looking for your father for a long time. Naturally, there will be important things which you may not want to share with anyone else. But now that I’m your familiar and bond mate, it’s only natural that I support you as much as possible, no?”

“You’ve already done a lot. As you know, I wouldn’t have made any leads on dream magic without you,” Senku reminds, looking at anywhere else but Gen. “If this is about learning how to harness your magic, don’t worry. I’ll work you to the bone with spells and experiments, just you wait.”

“How charming of you, Senku, to worry about my prowess with magic. But no, this isn’t about that.” Gen sips his coffee, shooting Senku a beatific smile. “I merely want to help. You bear a heavy burden, after all.”

Senku doesn’t respond at first. The silence between them is a yawning chasm, despite the sound of clinking cutlery and conversing patrons around them. Finally, he says, “we’ll stay in this town for a few more weeks. Let’s go find some accommodation.”

Gen deflates.

***

“He doesn’t trust me,” Gen moans, burying his face into his hands. He’s sitting by the river, sprawled on the grass like the drama queen he is, with Kohaku, Ruri, and Chrome next to him. Stone Café is shut for the day, Gen having waited for the trio to finish up before inviting them out for walk. Said walk is a ploy for Gen to discuss the burgeoning concerns in his love life, because it has gotten to the point where Gen in dire need of guidance.

It’s a good thing Senku is absent, setting up his makeshift telescope in the new apartment they've rented for the next few weeks.

Chrome tosses grass flakes at Gen. “Wait, wait, wait. So Senku brushed you off?”

“Not quite,” Gen says, “he was being…secretive.”

“I don’t think trust is the issue here,” Kohaku muses. There’s something high and mighty in her tone, like she’s proud to be seeing something in the situation that Gen doesn’t.

Gen hates it. “This is about his father. If it’s not about trust, then what else could it be?”

“Are you kidding?” Kohaku throws her hands in the air. “Senku trusts you with his life. That whole time in the forest? You could have lost control at any moment, and yet he stayed! If you ask me, I think Senku’s just pulling an extremely typical Gen-move.” 

Gen puts on his most appalled expression. “I have absolutely no idea what you mean, dear Kohaku.”

She scoffs. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” And she’s right, Gen does. “Senku’s being careful, of course. It’s obvious he doesn’t want you worried --- or worse, hurt. How many days has it been since you two bonded?”

“One week,” Gen admits reluctantly, staring out moodily at the river. He feels like a child.

“Exactly. Pretty short, don’t you think?” 

“But we’re…” Gen gestures at the air, trying to make some crude representation of him and Senku being two peas in a pod. It must look lewder than he thinks, because Chrome’s grin is threatening to split his face and Kohaku, despite being the physical representation of a hawk, is wearing the expression of a sly Cheshire cat. Oh no. “Not in the way you’re thinking! I just meant we’re,” Gen clarifies, praying that he looks less flustered than he feels, “together.”

“Ooooh, _together._ ” Kohaku waggles her eyebrows. Chrome snickers.

What terrible friends to have.

“Together.” Ruri’s sigh is dreamy. “Love is a beautiful thing, Gen. I’m happy you and Senku found each other. Bonding is an intimate experience, but it doesn’t always lead to love.”

“I don’t think ‘love’ is the right word here,” Gen argues, but no one’s listening to him.

Next to him, Kohaku pulls a face. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, imagine if Chrome and I had to date.”

“Would that be so bad, though?” Ruri asks, looking between her sister and said sister’s magician in question. Her expression is wide-eyed and innocent, like she’s genuinely contemplating that possibility and isn’t concerned about the fact that Chrome has sucked in all his breath and is holding it. Kohaku’s face is twitching.

Gen does a double take. It would’ve been funny, if the implications weren’t so tragic. He says, “you think…Kohaku…and Chrome…could be good together? As in, together…. _together_?”

Ruri twirls a lock of her golden hair. “Why not? They work well as magician and familiar. If they’d be happier together without me holding them back, then I’d prefer them that way.” And while Gen knows Ruri no longer suffers from the physical effects of her illness, there’s something fragile in the way she folds her feet, tucking them under the long length of her dress. “For many people, years go by before they find the things that matter to them the most. You and Senku are lucky. Make sure to treasure the bonds you have.”

“Those are insightful words, Ruri. I’ll be sure to remember them.” Gen stands, brushing strands of grass from his lap. It’s time for him to take his leave. “But just for the record, Ruri, I think Kohaku and Chrome are the incredibly lucky ones to have _you_ around.”

***

The apartment Gen and Senku end up renting has paint peeling off in flakes and carpets that have faded from their original colour. But it’s worth the price, coming with an old-fashioned tub, furniture left behind by a former tenant, and even a small balcony worthy of being used for stargazing.

Senku already has his telescope set up. He greets Gen with a sound of acknowledgement, remaining focused on the steadily darkening sky.

Gen responds extra chirpily, unpacking the takeout boxes he got for dinner. A sense of domesticity slides over him as he hums and putters about the kitchen, cataloguing the amount of shelf space they have for groceries. Then he works on putting away some of the items they’ve accumulated on the table, taking care not to trip over Senku’s suitcase lying open the ground. 

They sit on the balcony after dinner, swathed in a thick woollen blanket. It’s a cloudless night, which means the stars are visible in the inky sky. The townsfolk begin shutting their shops and restaurants as the minutes tick by, the hustle and bustle in the streets dying away for the night. Suspended high above the world, serenaded by chirping cicadas, Gen feels the maddening restlessness plaguing him fade.

Finally, Senku says, “you know, when I don’t tell you things, it’s not because I don’t trust you.” At Gen’s startled inhale, he continues, “what? You’re not exactly subtle.”

“I am extremely subtle,” Gen insists. He just shouldn’t have trusted Kohaku with his ramblings, that woman was too good at tipping others off. 

Senku snorts. “Then that makes me the observant one. Anyone could see you moping from a mile away.”

“I don’t mope,” Gen defends, disturbed at how Senku can read him so well. “Also, please stop being so observant. It’s detrimental to my sanity.”

“What kind of magician would I be if I weren’t so observant of his own familiar?”

“Probably a lousy one,” Gen admits.

“Exactly. Now, do you remember what I mentioned to you the first time we met in that dream?”

“My apologies, dearest Senku,” Gen says, sprinkling as much saccharine as he can into his words, “but at that time I was solely focused on escaping from you. Stranger danger, you know.”

“Why are you like this?” Senku grumbles. “I said, I kept myself hidden because there were other people I was watching out for.” Yes, Gen does remember. “If this isn’t an obvious enough hint, you paranoid familiar, here you go: I’m not exactly the most well-liked in the magician community.”

Gen gives a long-suffering sigh. “A true tragedy, but unsurprising. You’re not very polite --- ”

“Oi.”

“You really aren’t, though,” Gen says with a smirk. “And? Let me guess. You were concerned that some unsavoury people would end up targeting me because I’m your familiar. These unsavoury people, you suspect, could be behind your father’s disappearance. Which means you try to pick and choose what you reveal to me. At times, this means avoiding my questions. Of course, I pick up on this. I ‘mope’, as you call it. Because you’re ‘observant’, you notice.” Gen’s grin widens. “And end up revealing everything you tried to avoid telling me in the first place.”

Crimson eyes stare, comprehension filtering in. Ever patient, Gen waits for Senku to piece everything together.

Finally, Senku makes an exasperated sound. “You knew this would happen. Everything was planned, from the way you phrased your questions during breakfast to the way you behaved this evening.”

Gen laughs, stifling the sound with the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t be silly, Senku. You assume too much. Everyone has their secrets --- I certainly wouldn’t have begrudged you for not telling me.”

He watches with amusement as Senku attempts to be one with the blanket. For all his brusqueness, Senku can be strangely adorable.

“Wouldn’t you?” Senku mumbles, sounding gloomy from the blanket’s depths. “You’re my familiar and bond mate, after all. You have every right to know.”

“Hmm. Are you also worried that I’d be angry if you told me?” The silence from Senku tells him everything. “Senku, let’s be real. A person like you will have enemies no matter where you go.”

Senku rolls his eyes. “Look who’s talking. You’re the one who walks around trying to antagonize everyone.”

“It’s because you shine like those stars in the sky,” Gen clarifies, reaching out to ruffle the mess of pale-green hair. “You’re a trailblazer, changing things for the better no matter where you go. That’s going to attract some negative attention, even if you had the personality of a saint.” Gen scrunches his nose. “Which you most certainly don’t. Sorry, Senku.”

“Did you just compliment and insult me at the same time?”

“Point is, that’s the kind of situation you’ll always be in. I would expect it, even if you never told me anything.” I’d still rather be here, Gen thinks, than anywhere else.

“You’re rather relaxed about this,” Senku observes, frowning at Gen’s airy tone. “Does it really not bother you at all?”

Gen contemplates that for a second. “Why don’t you start by telling me more about these people who are out for your blood? To whatever extent you’re comfortable, of course.”

He receives a groan in response. “You’re insufferable.”

Gen merely smiles and waits, knowing his patience with Senku will always be rewarded.

With their shoulders bumped against each other under the glimmering stars, Senku begins to speak.

“His name is Tsukasa.”

***

So.

It’s not like Gen doesn’t get to enjoy the good things in life, but he tends to go through an immense amount of pain and suffering before he gets there. With Senku, it came with Gen almost descending into animalistic madness forever. There was also that painful trap, which Gen tries not to think about these days. But anyway, the basic principle stands: Gen’s life embodies the concept of High Risk, High Reward™. 

So when he sees Senku’s father in a _dream,_ Gen fully expects something terrible to happen.

(Spoilers: it does.)

To start off, Gen rubs his eyes to check he’s not seeing things. The man is situated at a distance, half-turned away, but there’s no mistaking the impressive beard and shaggy grey hair. Gen has seen this man in Senku’s memories, he knows.

Oh god, he’s seeing Senku’s father in his dreams. The same father that Senku has been searching for years. The one presumed dead by the world. Yes, that one.

Dreams are dreams for a reason, Gen thinks. They tend to, you know, never make sense. But this? The dreamscape they’re in is tripping balls. It’s nothing like the peaceful, beautiful expanse of space Gen’s familiar with. Whatever they’re in is absolute chaos, a kaleidoscope of strange patterns, flashing neon colours, space debris, and littered fragments of rocks and metal. It’s like some sentient being had ripped up two separate wallpapers, one space-themed and the other funky-carnival, and merged them together.

Upon that terrifying thought, a macabre tune starts up in the background. Softly at first, then increasing in volume. The cadence and pitch are all wrong. It makes Gen’s skin crawl.

“Ooookay,” Gen mutters. Under normal circumstances, he’d be noping the hell out of here. But considering how he literally met Senku in a dream, Gen knows he can’t be dismissive of this one. So he wades through the dreamscape, carefully evading the debris, and taps Senku’s father on the shoulder.

Senku’s father whirls around like he’s scalded. The crow’s feet underneath wine-coloured eyes, the snowy strands interspersed with grey --- Gen is familiar with it, even if he has never met Senku’s father before.

“Hello,” Gen says, because even in a bizarre world like this, he has manners.

Senku’s father is gaping at him like a fish. “Who…where…where did you come from? How did you get here?”

Gen thinks about it. “I’m not sure either. This isn’t a great hangout spot, is it?”

“You don’t say? This whole place is a nightmare.” Senku’s father gestures at the whirling madness encapsulating the dreamscape, the organic patterns and neon colours fading in and out of existence. Still, Senku’s father beams, and Gen feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. “I’m Byakuya. As happy as I am to have some company, I’m concerned that you’re now trapped here too.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Gen says, waving a hand carelessly. “Our primary aim is getting you back safe and sound, no matter where you’re at. Do you know what happened to the _Soyuz_? Your crewmates?”

“You…you know of me? And the _Soyuz_?” Byakuya grimaces. “Are you from NASA? Is that how you found me?”

“No. Unfortunately, my credentials are a little less impressive than that. But! I know your son, Senku. We, uh.” Gen clears his throat, ready to deliver the punchline. And fails. Rambling it is, then. “We…know each other. He’s searching for you. Has been searching for years. The rest of the world may have given up, but he hasn’t. So while my arrival here is unexpected, it’s not unwelcomed. Senku will be thrilled to know that I managed to meet you. I think…” Gen says in a small voice, head bowed. “I think he misses you.”

When Gen finally steals a glance, he sees that there are tears in Byakuya’s eyes.

“What’s your name?” Byakuya asks, voice thick with emotion.

“Gen.”

“Thank you for coming all this way, Gen. Thank you for reminding me that Senku’s waiting for me. I knew he’d be looking for me --- I never doubted that. However, being able to hear it from someone else means a lot.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Gen protests. Like Senku, Byakuya’s straightforward when it comes to expressing gratitude. “Senku’s the one who’s big on this magic business. If he were here, he’d be able to come up with ten different ways on getting you out. I can’t. I’m…”

“You’re an important person in my son’s life,” Byakuya interrupts sternly, clapping a hand on Gen’s shoulder. “Very important, in fact. Am I wrong? Be honest.”

Gen thinks he knows the answer, but it’s hard to accept the fact that he’s important to someone when he still finds it difficult to believe in his own worth.

Instead, Gen blurts out, “I think I’m in love with your son.” Then he claps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening at the gravity of what he just said. No way. Oh, hell no. Him, in love with Senku? Really? They may be sorcerer and familiar, bond mates, boyfriends --- whatever the terminology may be --- but love remains unexplored, a tether too difficult to even contemplate.

The reaction from Byakuya, however, is unexpected. Byakuya doesn’t give Gen an angry lecture. Byakuya doesn’t grill Gen for more details. Byakuya doesn’t lift Gen by the collar, threatening him if harm came to his son.

Instead, Byakuya yells, pumping a fist in the air.

“What,” Gen says.

Byakuya’s eyes are shining. “Senku has an admirer! Oh, this is amazing!” He dances around, tugging Gen to join in.

“What,” Gen repeats, this time weakly. He allows Byakuya to swing him around in circles. 

“My son never saw the logic in love or a partner, you see. ‘It’s all unnecessary, old man!’, or ‘I’m more interested in magic, old man!’, that was all he said, over and over.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Gen defends, automatically coming to Senku’s aid.

“Of course not. Senku is intelligent and extremely capable. I have never once been concerned about his ability to survive, even if things got tough. But do you know what my last thoughts were in space before I ended up here?” Gen has no answer to that, so Byakuya continues, “I prayed that Senku would find someone out there who could love and support him, since I no longer could. I prayed that this person would serve as a friend, a guide, and perhaps something more. I prayed there would be someone who could be there to celebrate his successes, to lend him an ear in hard times…someone who could remind him of his brilliance, even when things turn ugly in life.”

Gen shakes his head. “We’re just bound by magic. Nothing more, nothing less. If love isn’t what he wants, then I’d rather not have him be shackled by it.”

Byakuya opens his mouth to retort, but the dreamscape warps. This time Gen senses something malevolent, and he’s not surprised when dark tendrils shoot out from the void, coming right at him. A disgusting dreamscape trapping Senku’s father like this? Gen’s not naïve enough to assume that it has no keeper. But he had managed to evade detection for some time, the keepers only being alerted to his presence now.

“Look out!” Byakuya yells, but there’s nothing he can do. Cold and slimy tendrils slide over Gen’s skin like pus, tightening and suspending him in the air. The world tilts.

Everything happens so quickly that Gen doesn’t even have the time to scream. So he digs his nails into his palms to stop himself from uttering a sound, even when his heart races with adrenaline from being strung up like a sacrifice.

Instead, he plasters a tentative smile at the two men in front of him. One of them must be Tsukasa --- and he’s certain it’s the giant man with broad shoulders and a mane of arm-length brown hair, radiating so much magic that it would make any lesser man quaver in fear. The masked man next to him has slanted eyes, silver hair, and a shit ton of muscle mass. This man smells like an animal, but it’s a signature scent Gen recognises.

Ah.

Gen has never met another wolf familiar before.

“I see we have an intruder,” the man Gen suspects is Tsukasa says. His voice is deceptively soft and deep.

“A bonded familiar,” the second man observes, approaching Gen. “I can smell the disgusting scent on him. Perks of…ah, being the same kind, so to speak.”

Byakuya looks between them. _Bonded?_ He mouths at Gen, understanding that the concept is significant despite not knowing anything about magic at all. _You and Senku?_

Gen only stares neutrally back.

“You.” Tsukasa is addressing Gen. “Do you know where you are?”

Tsukasa emits serious levels of danger, but Gen has fooled plenty in the past. So he blinks rapidly and looks around, as one usually does when they’re dazed and confused. “A dream, I think? But if you’re asking me how I got here, then I have no idea.” That last part certainly isn’t a lie.

“And do you know this man?” Tsukasa asks, pointing at Byakuya.

Gen lies easily enough. “Not at all. I started talking to him since he’s here, but otherwise he’s just some random guy to me.”

Tsukasa relaxes, his expression shifting into something more amiable. “That’s good. This man here is the father of one of the closest friends I once had, a friend who I now must destroy because of how destructive his ideals are.” The smile he next gives to Gen screams of repressed aggression. “If you were somehow related…then I may have had to destroy you, too.”

Oof, Gen thinks, suppressing a shudder.

“Do not be fooled, Tsukasa,” the other man insists. “There’s no way people just wander into magic dreamscapes without some kind of connection. This filthy wolf here is connected to Senku and his father, I’m sure of it.”

Tsukasa frowns. “Indeed. That is the truth where this area of magic is concerned. Tell me,” he says to Gen, “does the name of Ishigami Senku ring a bell at all?”

Too quick to deny the connection, and it would be obvious. Take too long, and they would suspect some form of stalling. So Gen tilts his head back, humming thoughtfully. Just like anybody would when they’re genuinely considering a question. Then he shakes his head. “No. Should it?”

“Senku is indeed a magician who works alone most of the time,” Tsukasa says. “I suppose it would not be surprising if you have not heard of him. Yes, that makes sense. On the other hand, Hyouga here tells me you are a bonded familiar. Tell me, who is your master?”

It might be Gen’s imagination, but for a brief moment he sees Hyouga’s lips curl upon hearing ‘master’. It’s an interesting piece of information which he files away for later use. For now, he needs to focus on escaping before he gets a heart attack. “Ruri Camellia.”

Tsukasa doesn’t recognise the name, as Gen hoped. “And what is Ruri’s perspective on magic? Does she embrace the way magic is currently performed, or does she…” Tsukasa’s expression morphs into something like displeasure, “…prefer exploring more unconventional means?”

“My bond with Ruri Camellia is recent. We do not know each other very well yet.” Once more, Gen pretends to be thoughtful. “If she seeks to expand magic beyond what we currently know of, then I have yet to see it.”

Tsukasa seems to accept that answer. “Very well. In that case, I see no harm in allowing you to leave.”

“And him?” Gen asks, jerking his head towards Byakuya, who hasn’t said a word since Tsukasa and Hyouga’s entrance. Byakuya doesn’t know anything about magic, Gen remembers, but it seems he knows when it’s best not to interfere.

“He stays,” Tsukasa says simply, and that’s that. “But before you leave, you will swear not to tell anyone what you have seen tonight.”

Gen’s eyes briefly meet Byakuya’s before they flit back to Tsukasa. He bows, ever polite, and continues to play the part of an uncaring observer. “Of course. Whatever business you conduct is none of my concern at all.”

“You understand that I must find a way to hold you to your word. Whatever you have seen here tonight was never meant for your eyes. We cannot risk you telling the world, if anyone at all. Such is the secrecy of our mission, which comes with a price. Hyouga, if you may?”

Hyouga steps forward, lips twisting into a wicked grin. Gen narrows his eyes but refuses to utter a sound, watching with cool distaste as the black tendrils slither away --- but not before leaving behind a dark stain on his skin, patches that burn to touch. A filthy curse. 

“Think of it as a parting gift,” Tsukasa says. “This curse, for all intents and purposes, is benign. But it is coded with one aim in mind --- to ensure you keep everything from tonight a secret until the day you die. The more truths you reveal, the more this curse will destroy you. Moreover…” Tsukasa towers over Gen, his silhouette dark against the swirl of patterns in the background. “…After destroying you, this curse will also destroy the person you love the most. I do not know if this person will be your bonded, or whether it is some other person who you are close to. After all, curses are unpredictable and have a way of choosing their own victims.”

Gen smiles. He doesn’t know how he was once concerned about Senku hurting him, when the Tsukasa-and-Hyouga tag team duo is another level of bad news.

Hyouga’s voice is flat, but he’s assessing Gen with reluctant curiosity. “I must say, you’re the first person who has responded that well to my curse. Everyone else screamed, cried…some even went mad as soon as my curse touched them. But you didn’t react at all. Impressive.” 

It’s only because Gen’s so good at masking how close he is to losing his shit. “I certainly can feel the weight of your curse, dear Hyouga. I just do not think it’s useful for me to react aggressively towards it.” 

Hyouga nods, looking satisfied. “Indeed. Gen, was it? That’s an efficient, rational way to react to things.” His smile is icy. “Well then, I suppose it’s time for you to leave this place. I pray you know how to keep your mouth shut, so that my curse never destroys you.”

***

Gen snaps awake, heart hammering in his chest. He pushes the sleeves of his pyjama shirt up, and --- there it is.

Black ugly patterns inked on both arms. A curse that would kill as much as Gen revealed. A curse that would eventually destroy the person Gen loved the most.

The figure next to him snores, unaware of Gen’s most recent ordeal. Senku’s cheek is squashed against the pillow, one arm hanging off his side of the bed. Half of his hair is flattened, pressed under his face. The other half fans out, defying gravity even in rest.

Gen tugs the blankets up so they cover Senku’s sleeping frame. Then he presses a kiss, light as a feather, to the forehead of the man he loves.

Somehow, Gen will have to find a way to stop…whatever the hell this is. He’ll save Byakuya too, because Byakuya is a good man, and he’s Senku’s father. If he must do all this alone, then so be it. And if he dies along the way, well.

Gen doesn’t cry, but he comes close.

***

It’s a good thing Gen wears outfits with long sleeves often, so he doesn’t look suspicious wearing a sweater even when it’s sunny out. As a safeguard, he wraps makeshift bandages around his arms, not wanting the curse marks to be visible if the sleeves ride up by accident.

The bags under Gen’s eyes this morning really ruin his good looks, but if everyone has seen him in mud and filth and god knows what else, this should be fine.

When Senku rouses from slumber, he eyes fully-dressed Gen like he’s seeing a mirage. Which is unsurprising, considering how Gen was the one refusing to leave bed just a few days ago.

“You’re up early,” Senku comments, rubbing his eyes, “do we have anything planned?”

“The morning market’s happening this morning,” Gen chirps. “I figure we could do some shopping there, maybe get something for Kohaku, Chrome, and Ruri as a thank you for everything.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea.”

The morning market is filled with eclectic crowds and chatter. From vegetable, poultry, to dyed cloths with shimmering patterns, the local market truly has everything to bewilder the casual visitor. Ink and parchment line up the table of a scribe, while vines entwine the colourful umbrellas of a florist’s stall. Senku preoccupies himself with the apothecary, flipping through a list on his notebook to stock up on herbs and potion materials. Gen beams at the sight, and goes to do some exploring and shopping of his own. He has always liked the hustle and bustle of markets, and this town’s market is no exception.

He’s looking at an array of rocks and crystals when he sees Senku approach, bags full to bursting.

“Ah, Senku, there you are. I have some gift ideas for our favourite trio.” Gen nods at the display. “Lapis lazuli for Ruri, amber for Kohaku…and for Chrome, obsidian. We enchant them, of course. A personalised gift for each of them.”

Senku’s face lights up.

Enchantments are how you add stats to items, or create what people commonly call ‘good luck charms’. Gen has seen magicians enchant all kinds of things, from flowers that made people fall in love to cooking utensils that ensured meals tasted better. Magicians normally did enchantments alone, without a familiar’s aid. Because the process of enchanting involved imbuing an intention on the item, having the combined intentions of two people could lead to problems. 

Which means it’s incredibly surprising when Senku beckons Gen over, setting the three gemstones down on a cloth between them. Surely Senku isn’t going to ask for Gen’s help when it comes to enchanting? That would be rare, if not unheard of.

“Here," Senku says, "let’s enchant them together.”

Leave it to Senku to always break traditions. See, that’s how he gets enemies from magic purists like Tsukasa. “Senku, in case you’re not familiar with the basic principles of enchantment, let me spell it out for you. Enchantments are best done with one person’s intentions. One. That means your intentions, and not mine.”

“Who cares about conventional principles?” Senku scoffs, waving Gen’s lecture away. “There’s no conclusive evidence showing how overlapping intentions could make an enchantment fail.”

“Sure, overlapping intentions that share a similar goal could work out fine. But has it ever occurred to you that I may deliberately impart negative, malicious intentions to make _your_ enchantment fail? That you may enchant good luck and protection for Kohaku, while I deliberately counteracted that with misfortune?”

Senku looks more curious than concerned. “Would you do that?”

“…No.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Your lack of concern will get you killed someday,” Gen mutters, shaking his head.

Senku snorts. “As if that would happen so easily. Besides, I have you now.”

I’m more capable of bringing disaster to you, Gen thinks, remembering the curse marks under his sweater.

They discuss the intentions for each gemstone to imbue. Kohaku’s was easy enough: courage, bravery, and the strength to protect the people she loved. For Chrome, intelligence, curiosity, and --- as Gen kindly described it --- the guts to confess to Ruri. Ruri’s was trickier. Good health was an obvious one, but what else? They could always go with standard intentions like good fortune, but Gen wants it to be special. From Senku’s glare at the small piece of lapis lazuli, Gen suspects Senku feels the same.

“To be her own person instead of always living in Chrome and Kohaku’s shadow,” Gen murmurs, suddenly remembering his conversations with them. “For her to truly understand what she means to them, and the value she adds to their lives.” When he doesn’t get a response, Gen looks up and sees Senku smirking. He crosses his arms defensively. “What? I’m seriously contemplating what could be good for our dear Ruri.”

“So much for ‘imparting negative, malicious intentions’, huh? I find it amusing how you’re always talking about hurting others, when you’ve got the heart of a marshmallow.”

Gen grunts. “I resent that comparison. Can we get on with the enchanting now? And since I’ve never done one, I’d appreciate some pointers.”

The enchanting itself isn’t terrible now that Gen’s beginning to get a hang of harnessing magic under Senku’s guidance. There’s some sigil drawing and, for the most part, focusing of thought and energy into the gemstones. Gen doesn’t have a problem with that. The curse doesn’t activate just because Gen’s performing magic, thank god. So long as he keeps his mouth shut and comes up with a magnificent plan away from Senku’s prying eyes, there’s no reason for him to live in fear.

Except there’s a big problem: Senku’s incredibly good at prying when he senses that Gen’s hiding something. Even now as Gen cheerily places each gemstone up in custom-made palm-sized boxes, Senku’s gaze is watchful. Like he suspects something, but can’t put a finger on it.

It helps that Senku’s attention is drawn away by their visit to the Stone Café over the weekend. Chrome fires off questions about how their new place is like, insisting that Senku and Gen throw a housewarming party to celebrate (“geh, too much trouble,” Senku protests). Ruri sets down tea and cake on the table for them.

“We got you some gifts,” Gen announces, placing the small boxes in front of each one of them. “Take it as a little thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“Gifts? You didn’t have to do that,” Kohaku says. Still, she eyes her box curiously.

Senku snorts. “Just accept it. After all, Gen spent a long, looooong time trying to come up with something meaningful. It would be a shame to let his effort go to waste.”

Three sets of eyes turn to Gen. He tries not to squirm. “It was no trouble at all.” Hastily, he adds, “why don’t you open them?”

Ruri is the first to gasp. She picks up the lapis lazuli, holding it under the light. “Oh, Gen, this is beautiful!” Her smile is shy. “I might make a necklace out of this, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s weird having you be grateful all of a sudden, considering how much of an ass you were before this,” Kohaku says, but she gazes fondly at the piece of amber in her palm.

Chrome goes starry-eyed at his obsidian piece. “Woaaaah, this is something! It’s packing some juice, I can feel it. Is this your enchantment, Senku?”

“ _We_ enchanted them,” Senku answers easily, an arm casually draped over Gen’s chair. “Gen had some good ideas, so yeah, each gemstone has been enchanted with each of you in mind.”

Chrome grins, elbowing Gen. “Tailor-made enchantments, huh? That’s amazing, the two of you. Thanks!”

Gen busies himself with his slice of cake, hoping no one can see the embarrassment on his face.

They fall back into easy conversation. Chrome talks about his latest magic experiments, Senku providing suggestions on fine-tuning them. Kohaku, Ruri and Gen chat about this and that, from business at the Stone Café to the new recipe ideas. Gen suggests Cola-themed shaved ice, since the sun has been out. Kohaku shakes her head, disgusted, but Ruri takes the idea seriously. Bless her soul.

At this point, Gen jumps up and claps his hand together. “Hey, I have an excellent idea. Why don’t all of us try enchanting something for Senku?”

“Haaah? What are you going on about?” Senku pipes up, turning away from his conversation with Chrome.

But just as Gen hoped, Chrome jumps onto the idea immediately. “Sounds interesting, count me in!”

Kohaku shrugs in a “sure, whatever” gesture.

“Hmm, what can we use…oh, wait. I have just the thing.” Gen reaches into his pocket, delicately placing the object he pulls out onto the table.

Kohaku does a double take, squinting at the object in confusion. “Isn’t this just a rock? And it’s not very nice-looking. If we’re using rocks, we can get some prettier ones from the river.”

“No, wait.” Senku picks up the rock, inspecting it with sharp eyes. After a moment, he levels a challenging gaze at Gen. “Where did you get this?”

“What is it?” Chrome presses.

“This is a meteorite,” Senku says simply. His fingers touch the smooth surface, feeling the meteorite’s smooth, rounded edges, and shiny metallic flecks. The meteorite is almost as dark as Chrome’s obsidian, but its fusion crust has worn off to reveal a rusty layer of brown underneath. “Not something you’d get from your everyday market, that’s for sure.”

“Just a little something I picked up along the way,” Gen says airily. “Thought it’d suit you.”

“Just a little something, my ass. Meteorites don’t just appear out of thin air. They’re hard to come by, and most of them are in museums or some rich person’s prized collection. Where did you _really_ get this from?”

“Does it matter?” Kohaku asks. “Maybe Gen got it off one of his previous magicians.”

“But if they’re so rare, then magicians shouldn’t be having them either,” Chrome says.

Gen hopes his smile is enigmatic. “Unfortunately, where this meteorite comes from will remain a secret. Why don’t we work on enchanting it?”

Senku pulls a face, but doesn’t say anything else.

Gen, Kohaku, and Chrome move to sit in a circle. Ruri, having no magic of her own, observes with rapt attention.

“Because Senku does plenty of strange experiments which put him in harm’s way, I suggest we make protection a key theme of the enchantment,” Gen suggests breezily. “Feel free to be more specific in your individual intentions, but let’s link it all back to protection. Make sure he keeps his limbs intact, his mind sharp and sane, and that he maintains his longevity until he reaches the ripe age of a hundred and eight…you know the drill.”

Chrome enthusiastically agrees. “That’s very weird and specific, but okay!”

Kohaku rolls her eyes, but she holds both hands out. One for Gen, one for Chrome. They clasp each other’s hands in this three-way connection, commencing the enchantment. Since Gen has a better track record with magic when he closes his eyes, he does exactly that.

The next part is what will truly matter. 

Gen starts with the basics. He pictures a protective barrier, but not just any protective barrier. This barrier will mould to fit Senku, following him wherever he goes. It’s anything and everything, willingly changing itself for whatever Senku needs. It’s a shield, but also a sword. Strong and righteous, it will exist to keep Senku safe.

The meteorite itself is an item imbued with magical properties. He had swiped it from the dreamscape with Byakuya, after all.

Protect Senku, Gen prays. He releases the two hands he holds so that he can cup the meteorite in his palms. _Protect him so that I cannot hurt him, for I would willingly give him my life if it meant he would always be safe. So let my wish be as enduring as the infinite stars that cross the skies, so let my powers exist only to save him, and not destroy…_

“Look,” Ruri whispers.

With the afterimage of the galaxies still seared in his mind, Gen slowly opens his eyes. Sparks of magic dance on his skin, illuminating his fingers with a muted glow. The air around him feels lighter. He feels otherworldly, unhuman.

There is magic in his veins and it blazes like the sun. From the moment he awakes to morning mist soft and dewy, to the evenings when he spills his secrets under the waning moon…magic always lived in him, even if he didn’t know it. Gen embraces the power, fully accepting its weight.

“Holy shit,” Chrome mutters, “is anyone seeing this? Gen’s _glowing._ ”

“Shush, don’t interrupt him!”

“But the strength of that magic. God, can you feel it?”

Gen doesn’t know how much time the enchantment took. Five minutes, maybe ten? But Gen feels the magic fade, awareness slowly returning to where he’s at and what he’s doing. Gen drops the meteorite into Senku’s palm, head swimming. Exhaustion floods his system. 

Senku’s expression is unreadable. He still doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to --- Kohaku’s shooing them home, no doubt sensing the new tension in the air.

It’s already close to dinner time, the evening sun casting long shadows over the streets. Gen and Senku make their way home, shoes scuffling against concrete. 

“You know,” Senku says, “you think you’re being extremely intelligent about this, but I see what you’re trying to do.”

Even with the dark spots dancing in his vision, Gen can’t help but huff in laughter. “Pray tell then, Senku. What am I trying to achieve here?”

“The whole thing about gifts for Chrome, Kohaku, and Ruri --- that was all just a cover-up for making sure that I also received an enchanted item. Specifically, something aimed at giving me protection. You got Chrome and Kohaku to participate in case something went wrong, but you didn't need to, because you ended up successfully dominating the enchantment with your magic.”

“Always jumping to conclusions, dear Senku. What if I was just being spontaneous about giving you a gift?”

Senku rolls his eyes, but doesn’t rise to the barb. “Nothing you do is ever just ‘spontaneous’. You have a way with words and mind games. Just like what a mentalist would do.”

“A mentalist, hmm?” Gen drags his feet along to keep up. “I quite like the sound of that.”

“Mentalists are troublesome. Mentalists who tend to do things for others at the cost of themselves, even more so. Weren’t we trying to curb that?”

“I never promised anything, dear Senku. Besides, isn’t that something you found interesting about me? Being predictable takes away the mystery, after all.”

Is that their entranceway? Thank god. Gen’s arms are burning. He suspects producing an enchantment so intricately focused on protection and goodness doesn’t fundamentally sit well with the curse in him.

“Again, I’m your magician. It’s my job to watch out for you.”

“And as your familiar, I watch out for you too.” Gen tries to toe his sneakers off, grunting when he fails. Without prompting, Senku kneels to help. He undoes the shoelaces, sliding each shoe off Gen’s foot.

“Yeah?” Senku turns to remove his own shoes. “What are you watching out for?”

“Your skinny arms, considering how they can barely support the weight of your shopping.” When Senku merely levels him an unimpressed look, Gen shrugs. “Really, Senku. Don’t scramble your pretty head trying to figure out everything I’m doing. I merely want to help.”

“You know that I have enough protections and enchantments as it is. What was the point of getting me something extra? Besides, I still want to know where you got the meteorite from.”

“Did you like it though?” Gen presses, using this opportunity to steer the conversation away to something less confrontational.

It works, because colour blooms beautifully on Senku’s cheeks. “…Yeah. You know how things that come from space hold lots of significance for me already, but. That enchantment. Whatever it was, you looked --- ” Senku coughs. “I mean, it looked good. You were in full control of your magic. I was impressed.”

The genuine praise fills Gen with warmth. “I’m glad.”

Still on his knees, Senku peers at Gen with a critical stare. “This has something to do with Tsukasa, doesn’t it?”

Gen almost jumps, but then realises Senku must be making that connection because he has shared this part of himself with Gen…right?

“You’re not just doing this because of some surface-level concerns. Whatever you’re doing is far too elaborate for that. No, this is something specific. Something that genuinely has you fearful for my life.” Senku frowns. “What is it, mentalist?”

All accurate observations, but that doesn’t mean Senku has to know he’s right. Gen just needs to handle his next words carefully. “Don’t be ridiculous, Senku. I just want to give you some extra protection from the dangerous big baddies. You know how they’re always targeting you, now and in the future --- ” but the words are cut off as pain lances through his arms, searing in the areas where Gen knows the black marks are tattooed on his skin. He bites back a hiss, but ends up sliding down the wall into a puddle on the floor.

What the hell, that was rude. Why did the curse activate? Gen didn’t even say anyth ---- oh, wait.

Tsukasa never specified the parameters for how specific the truths had to be. Even the vaguest information --- bits and pieces they may be --- are the _truth_. And the fact that Gen wants to protect Senku from Tsukasa and Hyouga is very much a truth linked to the night he meets Byakuya in the dreamscape.

Gen regrets everything. He’s in one of those games where all routes lead to doom, he’s sure of it. 

“Oi.”

“Wow, would you look at that,” Gen wheezes. “That enchantment sure took a toll on me.”

“…Gen.”

“Maybe I should go and have a nap. You know, replenish those reserves.”

“Asagiri Gen, clothes off. Now.”

“But you haven’t even taken me out for dinner --- noooooo!” Gen squeals as Senku pounces, ripping Gen’s sweater off with an aggression that, in other circumstances, Gen would be far more enthusiastic about. There’s nothing arousing about the way Senku tosses Gen’s sweater into the hallway, before moving to pull Gen’s long-sleeved shirt over his head. As the bandages emerge, Senku’s eyes darken. “Senku, please wait!” But Senku ignores him, unravelling the bandages Gen so carefully wraps around his arms every day.

The dark marks appear in view. Gen sucks in a breath when he sees that they have spread so that his arms are almost encapsulated in black.

When Gen finally has the courage to lift his head, he almost flinches at the expression on Senku’s face. Senku looks…if Gen doesn’t know better, he’d say that Senku looks angry. Like, seriously angry. Far angrier than Gen ever thinks he would ever get to witness from a person like Senku, with his nerdy passion for experiments and everything magic-related.

Senku is still as stone, his jaw clenched. There’s something dangerous about the shadows dancing on his face, fuelled by a crimson glare that reminds Gen of spilt blood.

Finally, Senku simply asks, “how long?”

“Just --- just last week --- shit.” Another wave of pain sweeps through Gen, as he reveals another piece of the truth to Senku.

“Alright,” Senku says. “Don’t say anything else.”

Shifting into the role of a healer, Senku inspects Gen while muttering to himself. “Pretty lethal for it to spread so quickly. Conditions for it to spread aren’t confirmed, but I have a fair idea. This doesn’t look like Tsukasa’s handiwork. Hyouga, I suspect. Difficult to ascertain how the curse would have been cast, considering how you’ve been with me the whole time, unless…” The words would sound clinical to anyone else, but Gen can see that Senku’s hands are shaking. “…You encountered them in the same way you encountered me. Through dreams. But for the curse to be cast, with these conditions…what would be the reason?”

Gen slides a wobbly hand into Senku’s satchel, pulling out the meteorite. He holds it out to Senku like an offering, silently urging him to put the pieces together. There’s someone else tied to you through space and time, Senku, he urges wordlessly. Think of who it may be.

Senku’s eyes widen.

“I have to leave,” Gen confesses. “My plan was to sneak away tonight after you fell asleep, but since there’s no hiding things from you, I might as well tell you now.”

“I knew you were up to something.” Senku’s voice is flat, devoid of anything. Not even accusation. Somehow that hurts Gen even more. 

“I have a plan. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I have for now. I...” Gen hesitates. “I’m sorry if you’re upset, but I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do.”

Senku lets out a resigned sigh. “I would ask for details, but I see this curse has the inconvenient nature of hurting you every time you reveal something that remotely resembles the truth. Still, there are better ways of handling things than just simply sneaking away into the night. If I simply took your words of ‘oh, nothing’s wrong at all, Senku!’ at face value, we’d be at a horribly disadvantaged position.”

“A horribly disadvantaged position?”

“Yes!” Senku throws his hands in the air, an exasperated gesture. “I’m guessing your original intention was to handle everything by yourself, correct?”

Gen reluctantly nods.

“That’s stupid. The best plans succeed when they’re carried out with other people’s help. You might have been able to pull off your plans alone, but did you ever stop to think how you’d patch yourself up afterwards? Or what you would do if something went wrong and you needed back-up? This isn’t an anime, Gen. You can’t just storm around trying to defeat people with the power of love and friendship.”

“I was going to rely on the power of love, friendship, _and_ magic,” Gen corrects, refusing to be insulted like this. “Give me some credit.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you need allies. Even having someone bring fresh ideas to the drawing table can be useful. Since they see things from a different perspective, they’re bound to come up with things you haven’t thought of.”

“I don’t think it’s the same,” Gen protests.

“It absolutely is. I get that you’re worried for me. This curse, its repercussions, whatever that was said between you, Hyouga, and Tsukasa --- you think it’s your responsibility. That you’re the only one who can solve this. Well, I’m not going to be sitting here waiting for you to save our asses. I’ll be doing everything I can from my end.” Senku grins triumphantly. “Besides, there’s one thing Tsukasa and Hyouga would not have accounted for. I’m surprised you haven’t thought of it yet. It involves something only you can do.”

“Really? What is it?”

Senku traps Gen against the wall, smirking. “I want you to lie to me.”

“I…I…” Gen squeaks. The wall is cold against his bare skin, but the heat radiating from Senku is too close to be ignored. “Come again?”

“Lie to me,” Senku repeats. He twirls a lock of Gen’s hair in his fingers, before pressing his lips to them. “You’re such a bloody good liar, mentalist, always getting me worked up and chasing after you with your words. It’s only fair that I now try and read through them, don’t you think?”

Never mind that Senku’s seduction skills have been amped up ten billion per cent, the brilliance of his words hit Gen like a sledgehammer. “You…you want me to lie to you. So that you can infer the truth.”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it. I told you, I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

Oh. _Oh._ For some reason, Gen’s eyes burn. He scrubs at them furiously.

Senku pulls Gen to his feet. “How about we make use of that hot tub first, hm? If you intend to leave tonight, you’ll want to be squeaky clean.”

Gen remembers he was far shyer about nudity when he first met Senku, but he’s currently too tired to care. Besides, it’s going to be some time before they get to be this close to each other again. Beggars can’t be choosers, and having a bath with your bond mate slash boyfriend is definitely on the top tier of blessings he has the privilege of enjoying before stumbling off into battle against so-called bond mate slash boyfriend’s destined foe.

A rush of humid air greets Gen as he steps into the bathroom, Senku having filled the tub up with hot water. Gen sinks into the depths with ease, his muscles already relaxing at the warmth.

Senku squirts a dollop of shampoo in his hands and beckons Gen to turn around. Wait, is he…? Gen swivels around on autopilot as Senku’s hands move to lather shampoo in his hair. Senku even tucks the longer strands behind Gen’s ears, movement so casual and easy that Gen sighs in contentment.

“You know,” Senku says, “this is what I wanted to do for you when we first came back from the forest. I offered so nicely, and you still slammed the door in my face.”

“I was traumatised from all the heart to heart we had in the forest. You can’t blame me.”

“And now?” Senku presses, fingernails grazing Gen’s scalp.

“And now, I think you should consider an alternative career in hairstyling. Has anyone told you how magical you are with head massages?”

Senku chuckles. “You’re the first.”

They fall into a moment of comfortable silence, punctuated by the sound of scrubbing and sloshing water. Gen doesn’t fall asleep, but he thinks he could, lulled by the gentle motions of Senku’s fingers. He tilts his head back as Senku combs through the black and white strands. “Hey, Senku. Can I tell you a story?”

He hears the smile in Senku’s voice. “I hope it’s an interesting one.”

“I think you’ll learn a lot from it. You see, it’s a bit of a legend. Most of it probably isn’t true, but that’s what makes legends interesting, right?”

“Legends and lies, there’s no difference. Carry on.”

Gen begins to narrate. “This legend starts with a boy who lost his father to the stars. The boy searched, but this was no easy task. The sky stretched on infinitely after all, and the stars yielded no clues. So for years, the boy had no luck. He made friends along the way, and one day, met a wolf who swore to stay by his side and aid the boy’s quest.” Gen pauses, readying his first lie. “The wolf, low in luck and magic…failed to find the boy’s father.”

Senku’s fingers still.

“The wolf failed,” Gen repeats the lie, voice a tad too sweet. “But what was even more strange was how the wolf met two men.” Tsukasa and Hyouga. “Two men who _cared_ for the boy so much, that they went to great lengths to ensure that the boy would one day be reunited with his father.”

The silence stretches for so long that Gen worries, for a second, that Senku has had an aneurysm. And Gen wouldn’t blame him, considering how this is the part where Gen reveals that Tsukasa and Hyouga are involved in Byakuya’s disappearance. 

Then Senku abruptly tips hot water over Gen’s hair, washing the shampoo out. In a tight voice, he says, “continue.”

“The two men decide to give the wolf a little gift. One that would help the wolf, but eventually give the boy the same benefits.” The curse that hurts me will eventually hurt you, Gen thinks. He spares his arms a glance, the black marks vaguely visible through the water. “So the wolf makes the decision to…ah, what’s the right word? Reciprocate, maybe. The wolf decides he will single-handedly do what he must, because he’s the main recipient of the gift. He cannot allow the boy, already engrossed in his mission of looking for his father, to be distracted by it --- Senku?”

Senku has his arms wrapped around Gen’s shoulders, burying his face into the crook of Gen’s neck. His breaths are ragged, hot puffs of air on Gen’s skin.

“…Senku,” Gen says, voice softer than usual, “I’m going to turn around, okay?” He only turns when he feels the dip of Senku’s head, wordlessly acquiescent.

There’s something vulnerable in the way Senku looks, from the downward curve of his lips to the hollow spaces between his collarbone. Water droplets cling to his lashes, trailing down and dripping off his chin.

Gen doesn’t say anything, because not only does Senku understand --- he understands perfectly well. The stakes. The consequences. The truth within Gen’s lies, metaphors, and half-assed explanations. So Gen reaches out, cupping Senku’s cheeks with both hands. His thumbs stroke the moisture away, relishing how Senku’s usually pale skin is flushed from the water’s heat. As if Senku’s face fits perfectly in Gen’s hands, like he was sculpted for Gen to appreciate.

“Does this story have a happy ending?” Senku asks, the question child-like. Like a kid wanting to know how a bedtime story ends.

“Well now, who knows? Too many interpretations by different people and all that.” Gen giggles, finding amusement in his answer. “It could end as a tragedy.”

Senku places his hands over Gen’s, determination colouring his words. “My version of this story has a happy ending. The boy finds his father. The wolf removes this stupid, annoying, completely uncalled-for ‘gift’ that hangs over him and the boy. They celebrate, and life is good. The end.”

Whatever weakness Senku showed is gone, a fleeting moment Gen knows only he has the privilege of witnessing. “That’s a typical Senku-centric narrative. Remember, with stories like these, the protagonist always needs to make a choice. This choice comes with a corresponding sacrifice.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Just trying to be realistic,” Gen insists.

Senku responds by flicking the tip of Gen’s nose. “Look, you have something crazy planned. I’m not going to question it. But like it or not, at some point I’m going to extricate you from whatever hole you’ve dug for yourself. And that’s a promise.”

“But…”

“No buts. And if you think you can run and hide, then you thought wrongly. Surely you know by now how resourceful I can be. Looking for stubborn familiars is my specialty.”

Gen weakly shoves at Senku’s chest. “No one’s saying you’re unresourceful, but think about it. If someone important to you can be saved, then…”

Senku grabs Gen’s hands, pinning them to the side of the tub. His eyes are fiery. “I don’t trade lives, Gen.” The line is said with finality.

“Alright.” Gen knows there’s no point arguing with Senku on this one. “Whatever you say.”

***

Finding Tsukasa and Hyouga isn’t hard. Curses are linked to their casters after all, and all Gen needs to do is push through the pain to get a sense of where that foul, nasty magic’s coming from. It’s getting to them that annoys Gen, because he ends up taking a grand total of six buses and two ferry rides to get to some weird, reclusive island they’re based at.

A very guarded island too, Gen concludes, as he attracts the attention of some meatheads who’re clearly there for brawling purposes.

But he’s careful and deliberate. Despite his small frame, Gen knows how to command attention and respect as he sees fit. Even his outfit has been carefully chosen for this occasion --- a loose purple _haori_ that goes down to his shins, with sleeves baggy enough to make him look like he’s floating.

Asagiri Gen glides across the coarse sand and driftwood with smooth strides, throwing half-lidded smiles at anyone who dares to meet his eyes. Come and stop me if you dare, he thinks. The best way to avoid trouble is to look like _you’re_ trouble.

The truth is that Gen’s terrified. He’s acutely aware this is enemy territory, which means he’s on high alert, fight-or-flight instincts activating. Gen clenches his fists under the sleeves, nails digging into the meat of his palms.

No one stops him, although some of the men make half-aborted movements to approach. But they don’t. Until someone…or rather something decides to.

The bushes rustle, a blurry shape bounding out and head-butting Gen against the hip. When Gen looks down, the momentary panic gives way to the urge to coo. It’s a large fluffy sheep, wool snowy white except for patches of brown from dirt and dust. An odd array of twigs and leaves stick out, comically embedded in its wool.

“Why, hello there,” Gen murmurs, fascinated. “You’re messy, aren’t you? Let me help.” Not quite caring that there’s still a bunch of men on the island leering at him, Gen kneels and begins picking out the assortment of twigs and leaves from the sheep’s wool. He’s careful, not wanting to hurt it. 

The sheep meets his eyes, and Gen sees blue. Not the same shade that Kohaku has, but…turquoise. A sheep with brilliantly-coloured eyes? Gen doesn’t think he has seen one. He peers into them curiously, but then the sheep lets out what sounds like the sheep-version of a huff, biting at Gen’s purple sleeve. Tugs.

A sheep with intelligence? Suspicious. Gen follows it through a winding bush path, pleased that the creepy, annoying meatheads can no longer see him. After a few minutes and a steep climb that has Gen wishing he’d done more cardio, they arrive at a cave entrance. Animal pelts are sprawled over the jagged rocks, some still smelling like blood. He shivers, already knowing who’s waiting inside.

The sheep took him through a shortcut. When Gen turns to give his thanks, it’s already gone.

Seeing Tsukasa and Hyouga in the flesh is far more terrifying than being strung up by black pieces of dangly goop in a dreamscape. Also? The setup is so stereotypically villain-like that Gen is stuck between laughing or fleeing.

Tsukasa is seated upon what looks like a throne, made with an eerie combination of wood and bones (animal ones, he hopes). A lion pelt is draped over the back, its mustard hue illuminated by the flickering flames. Hyouga is sitting by the fire, the bottom half of his face masked, his posture upright. A large spear rests in his hands. Black gloves, furs, and leather gear adorn him.

They don’t look surprised to see him. If anything, Tsukasa’s expression is open and relaxed, lounging casually on his throne. “Hello, Gen,” he greets. His voice is as rich and warm as Gen remembers, and just as frightening. “It’s a surprise to see you so soon. What’s the purpose of your visit? If you’re here to ask us to remove the curse, then surely you already know what our answer is.”

“I come to join you,” Gen announces bluntly, “and to have my revenge against our dear Senku.”

He sees the rise in the curve of Tsukasa’s eyebrows. Even Hyouga puts his spear down.

“Explain,” Tsukasa commands.

Gen takes a seat by the fire. It’s time to get close and personal with these two. “Remember how Hyouga raised the question of how I managed to enter the dreamscape, if I had no connection to Senku at all? It was indeed strange, so I did some digging. It turns out my current master _is_ acquainted with Senku…very well-acquainted indeed.”

“Then why did you appear in the dreamscape, and not her?” Hyouga asks.

Gen shrugs, offering a vague explanation. “My best guess is that it’s caused by a shared interest. Namely, space and everything in it. Astronomy-related magic is a passion of mine, and you already know why it matters to Senku.” Now, to deflect and put on a performance. The words fly off his tongue, as natural as breathing. “Anyway, I went to speak to my master, Ruri Camellia, to see what she knew about Senku. She didn’t like how I was asking so many questions, so in my desperate attempt to get answers, I inadvertently revealed some of the truth and activated the curse in the process. I didn’t reveal much, mind you. But she got angry. So, so angry. Angry to the point where she threatened to sever our bond. Can you believe that? How awful of her! How mean!”

Tsukasa looks thoughtful. “And how does all of this relate to you wanting to have your revenge against Senku?”

“Because Senku turned my master against me,” Gen spits out. “My master is everything he isn’t. She’s beautiful, kind, and intelligent. Senku has warped her vision of what magic should be. I don’t want her to die from the curse, so I’m here to help you put an end to his existence.”

(Gen prays Ruri never finds out about how he’s besmirching her name with lies and slander.)

Hyouga’s the one raking through Gen’s every word, not fully buying it. “All of that is plausible, and yet I believe you’re not telling us everything.”

Ah, caught. Gen smiles. “What gave it away, dear Hyouga?”

“Your silver tongue. Something tells me you lie through your teeth frequently. I respect your efficiency and determination for coming all the way out here, so I won’t have you killed just yet, but that will depend on what your true motivations are.”

Gen lets loose a laugh, obscuring his mouth daintily with a sleeve. “Very good. Very, very good. Anyone else would have believed everything I have just said without question. You’re observant, Hyouga. Is that why Tsukasa has chosen to be your master?”

There it is again, the subtle twitch in Hyouga’s face when Gen refers to Tsukasa as Hyouga’s ‘master’. Gen will utilise this information to his advantage somehow. But for now…

“Tell us what you want, Gen,” Tsukasa instructs. “Tell us everything, and let’s see what we can do to destroy Senku together.”

“As Hyouga so very intelligently identified, I’m a superficial man through and through. All I want is long-lasting fame and prestige. What better way to do that than to be one of the great masterminds behind Senku’s great downfall?” Gen giggles, palms extended reverently toward the cave ceiling. “Maybe I could pillage from him, use his work for my purposes. Ah, within your supervision of what you think is fitting for our society, of course. I can work with you on just about anything, as long as my name’s on the headlines. Yes, fame is what I really want. Indeed,” Gen sneers, “I do not care much for Ruri Camellia. There’s only one person I care for, and that’s myself.”

“And Senku?” Tsukasa presses.

“How am I ever going to get my fame and fortune with him in the way? Destroy him,” Gen says, picking idly at his nails. “After that, I may destroy Ruri Camellia too. But that’s a decision for myself to make.”

Hyouga leans back against the cave wall, looking satisfied. “I suspected you were a self-centred, narcissistic scumbag. I was not wrong.”

Tsukasa is nodding. “Your way with people will prove useful. Very well, stay on this island for as long as you wish.”

“I am grateful for your hospitality,” Gen simpers.

“You mentioned that the curse has activated. How is it faring on your body, by the way?” 

“Ah, the curse? A little inconvenient, but nothing too nasty. Here, let me demonstrate.” Gen slides the material of his makeshift _haori_ away, revealing bare skin. 

Hyouga leers at him. “A little inconvenient, you say? Your entire arm is covered with it. Why aren’t you writhing and screaming in pain?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the activation did hurt a lot. Now it’s just…there. Perhaps your curse just isn’t as lethal as you think?” Gen has been finding it harder and harder to move his arms, but that’s beside the point. No one needs to know that. 

“I’m glad it’s not taking too much of a toll on you,” Tsukasa interrupts, before Gen and Hyouga begin trading more veiled insults. “Regretfully, we won’t be removing it until Senku is no longer a threat to us.”

Gen shrugs. “That’s fine. I don’t really care.”

“As for sleeping arrangements…hm. I think Ukyo should have a spare bunk in his room. You can room with him. Ukyo’s one of our generals, you’ll enjoy his company.”

As it turns out, the island conveniently has an entire building full of bunk beds and equipment. A former military base, perhaps? He strolls past the main island with more confidence, knowing that he’s now an official ally of the kingdom of might. The burly men recognise this, so they leave Gen alone and don’t give him a second glance.

Excellent.

He never sees his roommate, Ukyo, but that’s fine. Everyone on this island is probably a nutcase, but maybe Ukyo’s one of those persons who just…never uses his own room. Or rests. That’s good, because at least Gen won’t be murdered in his sleep.

Over the next few days, Gen wanders. A lot. He familiarises himself with the island, its operational base, and even pays attention to the schedule of each security brute. He eats with everyone in the mess hall, seating himself in a corner so that his presence goes unnoticed. The food is terrible, consisting of watery soup, beans, and a mash of wild meat from the island. The seafood is more acceptable, as is the instant coffee, but Gen misses the food he gets from Stone Café.

And it’s not just Stone Café he misses. He misses the cheery atmosphere, the smell of pies and baked bread, the tinkle of the cashier every time a customer pays for a coffee. He misses the sight of Ruri, Kohaku, and Chrome, running the Café with a combined precision no other team could hope to emulate. He misses Kohaku’s grumpy glares, Ruri’s kind smile, and Chrome’s non-stop chattering. There’s no hiding it, Gen thinks of them as friends. Even before he was Senku’s familiar, hadn’t he always sought refuge with them?

God, he’s getting sappy.

He tries not to think of Senku, because thinking of Senku is worse. Gen had anticipated the despair of being parted from Senku, especially when the future was so bleak, but experiencing it is still soul-crushing no matter what.

He hasn’t even been able to see Senku in his dreams.

But he’s here for a reason, so Gen distracts himself by looking for clues. Something, anything. He finds a room of enchanted weapons. Spears, swords, clubs, the usual. One library with a mess of books, parchments, ink, and quills. A room storing dried food and firewood. A room of farming equipment. All standard stuff.

There must be something else on this island, Gen thinks. There’s no other reason why you’d have a secret base all the way out here otherwise.

There’s also something else that has been bothering Gen. Sure, Tsukasa and Hyouga were involved in the disappearance of the _Soyuz._ But to actually be able to take down an entire rocket? A government-funded one, with some of the world’s most skilled personnel on board? Where on earth does the power to do something like that come from?

As powerful Tsukasa and Hyouga are, Gen feels like he’s missing something.

Or...someone else. 

As Gen ponders this, he wanders deeper into the island’s forest. It’s deeper than he normally ventures. The trek is steep, sometimes slippery. Footholds are difficult to find.

Gen frowns. He’s not very nimble with human hands and feet, but wolf him is a different story. So he transforms, hoping to be able to lope freely, but almost trips at the pain that courses through the two of his front feet. That’s right, the curse. So instead of loping, he slowly traverses through the forest, crossing through rivers, mud tracks, and slippery rock.

The forest changes the deeper he ventures, the trees and shrubbery wild and rough. 

Eventually, something catches his eye. He stops. It’s a…metal fragment? No, aluminium. Actually, ‘fragment’ doesn’t even come close to describing it. The aluminium piece must be several metres in length, longer than the average door. In fact, it looks almost like the wing of a plane. Or a tail? The piece was once silver, but is coated with a layer of reddish-brown corrosion. Gen sniffs at it, scenting the remnants of fuel. 

Are there more of these fragments around? Gen doesn’t spot any when he lifts his head, but the smell of stale fuel seems to continue somewhere. He follows it by sniffing the ground keenly, pleased that his wolf nose’s coming in handy. Where the scent abruptly stops, Gen spies an entranceway with a stone staircase that leads underground. It’s hidden so well with leaves and branches that Gen knows he wouldn’t have spotted it with his human eyes.

“Eureka,” Gen mutters. Whatever secrets this island holds, he knows he’ll find them here. But when he pushes his snout forward, he encounters resistance. An invisible barrier, one made of magic. Irritated, he pushes again. Nothing happens. The barrier refuses to budge.

Then the weirdest thing happens. A sheep --- actually, the same sheep that led him through to Tsukasa’s cave on the very first day --- walks up to him, and casually passes through the barrier like it doesn’t exist at all. Then it looks back, as if asking Gen to follow. Gen tries again, expecting resistance, but finds with pleasant surprise that he walks through with no difficulty at all.

“What kind of magic sheep are you?” Gen grumbles. The sheep doesn’t answer. It doesn’t even look remotely alarmed by the fact that it’s walking right next to a _wolf_. Shouldn’t animals have instincts or something?

As they arrive underground, Gen realises they’re in some kind of labyrinth. Paths spread out in multiple different directions, all moss-covered and illuminated by a combination of oil lamps, torches, and lightbulbs. A concoction of different eras, a patchwork of dissonance. 

Now, which way does he go?

As Gen scents the air, he recoils. There’s the scent of fuel, but it’s mixed with something else. Some of it smells sickeningly sweet, like rotten fruit, but the rest of it smells unnatural. Chemicals and potions that Gen doesn’t recognise.

To top it off, there’s something spooky cooped up in here. The magic thriving in this labyrinth doesn’t feel good. It’s strong, it’s unfriendly, it’s worse than even the dark shit Hyouga uses to curse others. Gen fights the urge to run away, tail between his legs.

The sheep nuzzles him, turquoise eyes bright. Sensing Gen’s fear.

“I’m okay,” Gen says. “Look, I never got to thank you. I don’t know who you are, but you’ve helped me so much. But, uh, you should leave. Whatever comes next may be dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Even in the darkness, Gen can tell the sheep isn’t impressed. As Gen tries to set foot on one of the paths, he’s yanked back by a stinging bite on his tail. The nerve of --- ! Annoyance spiking, Gen hisses out a threat. "You’ve got some balls to be doing that. Remember, the laws of natural prey and predator still apply here.”

The sheep rolls its eyes, but sets out on a different path. Once more, it indicates that Gen should follow. Clearly, whatever path Gen wanted to take wasn’t the right one. Gen grumbles under his breath, though in his wolf form it comes out as a growl. When the sheep turns around, alarmed, Gen apologises. “Sorry. I was joking. I won’t eat you, I swear.”

The end of the pathway splits into five more different paths, and each path they take splits into five more. Each time, the sheep leads them down a specific path, no hesitation in its movements. Gen obediently follows, especially after witnessing scary things like _traps_ in some of the neighbouring paths.

The terrible smell of chemicals grows stronger.

When they reach the end of the path, Gen reels at the sight in front of him. Laid before him is a room that looks like a cross between a science lab and a dome of cursed magic. Rows of occult books with indecipherable writing line up the wall, next to operating tables, surgical instruments, and human parts preserved in liquid. Dark blood stains cover the floor.

Beyond the operating area, Gen sees it.

Six cryonic chambers. Each easily as tall as a human being, sealed tight, opaque to the external observer. Six photos plastered on the wall, identifying who dwelled within each chamber. Byakuya’s face grins at Gen from a black and white newspaper cut out.

…Six photos…corresponding to the six astronauts that had been on the _Soyuz._

Which meant the aluminium fragments he discovered outside weren’t plane parts. They were remains from the _Soyuz_ itself.

God, just wait until Senku hears about this.

Even when he’s sick to his stomach, Gen knows he needs to have a closer look. But before he can do that, the sheep yanks his tail once more. This time, there’s something frantic in its expression.

“Stop that,” Gen hisses, “we’ve come this far, the least I can do is check this out.”

The sheep continues to tug, its hooves digging into the ground.

When the rumbling begins under his feet, Gen thinks the sheep may be on to something. Wind comes rushing into the chambers, cold and vicious. The uneasiness Gen has been experiencing gives way to full-blown fear, because this energy, whatever it is, is thirsting for their blood.

Then the moaning begins. Deep, raspy moans, the kind that chills you to the bone and conjures memories of ghouls thought to be long gone from the face of earth.

Gen rambles when he panics, he can’t help it. “Hahaha, okay, you were right, I’m so sorry, please get us out of here!”

They take to the tunnels, the rattling wind close on their tails. Gen ignores the burning in his chest and wills himself to move faster, to push through the pain, because he doesn’t want to find out what happens if he gets caught. The sheep is hurtling through path after path, and the sight of it would have been comical if not for the fact that they're being hunted down by an ancient Lovecraftian demon.

Finally, the path slopes up and they burst into the forest. The barrier behind them ripples, shimmering as they bolt through. The moaning abruptly cuts off. The abominable presence doesn’t follow.

They’re safe for now.

Gen collapses to the ground, transforming back into a human so that he can openly wheeze and verbalise with more human-like gestures. “Holy…holy shit. What in the actual fuck was that mindfuckery? Oh god, I need a minute.” He takes a deep breath, holds it for four seconds, then exhales. Repeats until he’s more in control of his senses. He turns to the sheep. “Hey, are you alri --- holy SHIT.”

The fluffy white sheep is now a man. A man with platinum blond hair, so pale that it’s almost white. He’s built slim, with long limbs and slender fingers. When the man meets Gen’s eyes, Gen sees turquoise.

“Hi,” the man says, sitting up. “I’m Saionji Ukyo.”

Gen’s supposed roommate. Gen’s _very_ absent roommate. “I’m…Gen. Asagiri Gen.”

“Yes, I know.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Sorry for not introducing myself earlier,” Ukyo says. His voice is softer than Gen expected. “I had my reasons.”

“That’s…that’s okay.” Gen’s mind is still too busy doing cartwheels to say anything intelligent. In hindsight, he should have suspected this sheep to be a familiar of some sorts. He just hadn’t expected it to be one of Tsukasa’s generals. “I should be the one thanking you. You saved my life.”

“You’re welcome.” Then Ukyo tips back over, landing back first onto the forest floor. Seeing the panic in Gen’s eyes, he adds, “don’t worry about me. All that running and going through that barrier took a toll, but I’m alright.”

“Hold on. You’re not going to tell Tsukasa and Hyouga about this?” Surely it’s obvious to Ukyo by now that Gen’s not here to dedicate himself to the kingdom of might.

Ukyo raises a sardonic eyebrow. “Do you want me to?” 

“No, but aren’t you a general or something?”

“I’m many things,” Ukyo answers cryptically. Finally, he stands without swaying, and stretches. “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere else? There’s a hut about ten minutes away.”

The wooden hut Ukyo refers to looks run-down from the outside, but it’s well-equipped with a functioning kitchen, a dining table, and chairs. There’s even a single bed in a corner. Gen doesn’t even think that there’d be a hut so deep in the forest, away from the island’s main areas. When he says this much, Ukyo laughs. “Yeah, it’s a well-kept secret. I’m the only one who knows this place exists. And you, now that you’re here.”

“Fairly odd for a general to know this much about the island, and not tell his superiors about it. What other secrets do you harbour, dear Ukyo?”

“As many as you do, I suspect. Tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

Ukyo brews a cup of tea for Gen, and makes coffee for himself. “I used to serve on this island with the military. We didn’t fight many wars, but we helped with skirmishes --- local outbreaks of violence, things like that. It’s why we have this hut, those underground tunnels, the resting quarters where people sleep. This whole island used to be for the military.”

“But they’re no longer here,” Gen observes.

“No. Some time ago, they moved. Because of whatever you just saw in those tunnels below. That ‘thing’ has a name. He’s Ibara. A madman, and a damned sorcerer. He used to be part of our military, but something changed him. He became twisted. Deranged. This was all hush-hush, of course. The top brass allowed his madness to continue, but decided the best thing to do was for everyone else to leave the island, to relocate somewhere else.”

So an evil overlord superseding Tsukasa’s abilities did exist. This confirms Gen’s suspicions. “What does Ibara want?”

“Chaos and destruction. That’s it. It’s what makes him a difficult opponent --- there’s just no rhyme or reason to his actions. Above all, he’s extremely manipulative. When Tsukasa and his army arrived on this island…” Ukyo shudders. “It was easy for Ibara to feed ideas that were far more terrible than the destructive perceptions Tsukasa already had.”

“The _Soyuz_ ,” Gen suggests.

“Yes. Together, they wreaked havoc on the _Soyuz._ Ibara told Tsukasa that the _Soyuz_ was banished to a place so far away that its astronauts would eventually die, having no way of returning to Earth. But…”

“Those creepy cryonic chambers," Gen points out. "The fragments of the spaceship around the area. The _Soyuz_ and its astronauts were never lost in space --- they’re here, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Ibara’s a prolific studier of dark magic, necromancy, and all things unnatural. The astronauts have been kept alive as part of his twisted studies.”

Gen sips at his tea, saying nothing for a while. Ukyo waits for a reaction, his hands steepled.

Finally, Gen speaks. “This is all very interesting, Ukyo, but it doesn’t tell me anything about your motivations. Why did you choose to stay on this island when Ibara drove your men away? Why did you become Tsukasa’s general? Why have you helped me all this while, when this would go against your duties?”

“I don’t want anymore lives to be lost,” Ukyo comments simply. “As for why I’ve been helping you, it’s because I sensed you were different from the others. You didn’t seem to be the kind of person who was here to fulfil some selfish purpose, despite what you said to Hyouga and Tsukasa in the cave --- ” 

“You eavesdropped.” 

“I have excellent hearing. As I was saying, I had a feeling your grand declarations of being here for revenge and fame weren’t true.” The corners of Ukyo’s lips quirk into a small smile. “I’m an empath, you see, so imagine my surprise when I sensed absolutely no desire to kill from you. It was funny, actually. I could tell you were terrified when you first set foot on the island, but no one would have known from how well you hid it.”

Great, another person who could effectively see through his façade. Empaths were ridiculously rare, Ukyo being the first one Gen has ever met. Hesitant, Gen says, “if that’s the case, then you must’ve sensed how…how…homesick I was. Over the past few days.”

“Homesick, and protective over someone important to you,” Ukyo points out gently. “Forgive me for presuming, but I suppose that’s the real reason why you’re here in the first place.”

Gen takes in Ukyo. Ukyo, whose eyes are clear without judgment. Ukyo, who saved Gen’s life while risking his own.

Gen sticks his hand out. “Ukyo,” he announces, “let’s be allies.”

In the euphoria of having an ally and a new friend, Gen reveals the truth to Ukyo, forgetting that he’s cursed. When Gen finally stops screaming, he sees Ukyo hovering over him, pale as a sheet. Gen chuckles weakly, and when he checks he sees that the curse has enveloped his entire torso, the dark shadows marring the smooth expanse of his skin. 

He knows the pain is worth it, because Ukyo is an important ally and Ukyo can’t decipher Gen’s words like Senku can.

But the look of horror that crosses Ukyo’s face can’t be good. And sure enough, because Ukyo is well-versed with Hyouga’s curses, he says, “Gen, the effects of Hyouga’s curses have been unpredictable on different people. By some miracle you’re still functioning, but the toll it’ll put on you in the long run…”

“I know,” Gen says, patting Ukyo’s arm gently. “It’s alright, Ukyo. It’s alright.”

***

While Gen and Ukyo cannot defeat Ibara by themselves, there are still other things they can do. For example, they must do everything they can to make Senku’s eventual arrival on the island as trouble-free as possible.

So Gen decides to befriend the only other werewolf on the island. 

He gets his chance when Hyouga is perched on the cliffs on a moonlit night, spear in hand. Hyouga is observing the island, functioning as the kingdom of might’s lone sentinel. Gen nonchalantly takes a seat next to Hyouga, legs dangling off the cliff edge. Hyouga doesn’t even make a sound of acknowledgement.

Gen breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?”

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” is Hyouga’s short answer.

“I apologise if I offended you the other day in front of Tsukasa. You know, by insinuating that your curse-casting skills weren’t up to par. It was a very well-cast curse, I assure you.”

Hyouga says, “it doesn’t make sense for you to apologise. You’re an abnormality, and I respect that.”

“An abnormality? Little ol’ me? I don’t think so. There isn’t much magic in me, you know. I’m about as common as every other guy on the street.”

“And yet, persistence and determination are the very elements that make you exceptional. A two-faced lying bastard you may be, but you are an _exceptional_ one.” Hyouga turns to Gen. “In that regard, you and Senku are well-suited for each other. He is a magician of remarkable talent, but it’s his tenacity that makes him stand out.”

“Senku can be pretty vile,” Gen says with remarkable honesty, because being a good bond mate doesn’t mean you can’t diss him in front of his enemies. “What about Tsukasa? He’s dominating, but there are some good qualities in him. In his own way, he’s charismatic and presents himself as a leader.”

“I respect his brutal efficiency, but his intense focus on the grandiosity of his vision will compromise any gains we get.”

The smile Gen sends to Hyouga is polite, but just because this conversation’s occurring between werewolves, he sprinkles that little dash of animalism in. “Like Ibara’s influence, for example? How he continues to keep the _Soyuz_ astronauts in a cryonic state, away from Tsukasa’s knowledge?” Gen lifts a finger to his chin, contemplative. “Or…oh, I don’t know. How Tsukasa panders to traditional hierarchy structures, instead of allowing people to contribute in a free and functional way? After all, you’re still his servant, aren’t you, even when you’re more than competent enough to lead in your own right. It’s a shame.”

He’s not surprised when it happens, but Gen’s heart still races when Hyouga lifts him by the collar and bodily dangles him over the cliff’s edge. Gen goes limp and pliant, bare feet feeling nothing but the ocean breeze beneath him.

“I should kill you,” Hyouga says, and every single word he says feels like the last Gen will hear. “You truly are the most vile, manipulative monster out there. Nothing you say can be trusted.”

Ukyo steps out from the shadows, poise graceful yet deadly, arrow nocked. “Put him down, Hyouga.” There’s not a single shred of gentleness that Gen had previously witnessed, and Gen is suddenly reminded that this man, despite his fluffy white sheep familiar persona and compassion for others, has taken lives on the battlefield. Ukyo’s eyes gleam bright in the dark with focus honed from years of practice, energy thrumming behind his stance.

Hyouga wouldn’t emerge from a fight against Ukyo unscathed.

After what feels like an eternity, Hyouga yanks his arm back and tosses Gen unceremoniously onto the ground. Gen closes his eyes as the ground meets him, dirt grinding and digging into his face.

Fuck, that was close.

“You, Ukyo, a traitor?” Hyouga asks. There’s no accusation in his voice, only curiosity. The same kind of curiosity he used to assess Gen the first time they met. “I see. So that’s how Gen found out about Ibara and the _Soyuz_ astronauts.”

“Yes, although I didn’t know you detested Tsukasa’s way of handling things that much. Gen figured that out on his own.” Ukyo finally puts away his bow and arrow, the predatory sharpness in his eyes fading. “I sensed your desire to be strong, but I thought that was just your competitive streak showing.”

Hyouga says, “I respect Tsukasa’s abilities. Magic or not, his fighting prowess is off the charts. I followed him because I thought we were going to seek out the strongest opponents together. I seek strength, and companions who excel in that strength. But upon arriving on this island, Ibara began poisoning Tsukasa’s mind. It was Ibara who encouraged the ridiculous notion of targeting the _Soyuz_ and its astronauts.” Here, Hyouga pauses before continuing, his true thoughts revealed. “Targeting the _Soyuz_ and its astronauts was a silly decision. The mere preparation of those plans took months. Now? Everyone continues to advance and grow, while we stay on this island, stale and never improving.”

“So you don’t care about the feud between Senku and Tsukasa at all?” Gen asks.

“I do not have an opinion on how magic should be used. As long as I can fight side-by-side with efficient comrades, then I’m content.”

Pondering the problem, Gen says, “if Ibara really is the big evil mastermind here, then wouldn’t it be as easy as revealing all his evil tricks to Tsukasa? Whatever we saw in that labyrinth has got to be forbidden magic. It felt dark. Nasty. Surely not the kind of ‘pure magic’ Tsukasa preaches.”

“Because I suspect it’s not as easy as that,” Ukyo says slowly. He looks at Hyouga expectantly.

“Ibara’s dead,” Hyouga says shortly. “I killed him. Or I thought I did.”

Gen’s laughter comes out in a series of high-pitched whines. “Err…are you sure? Because it doesn’t feel that way. We got chased by his terrifying evil energy when we were at the labyrinth.”

“That’s because he has dabbled in so much dark sorcery, even after death he exists as a malevolent ghoul. Not quite living, not quite dead. Existing in the spectrum between life and death, his fury unmatched.” Hyouga bows his head, a demonstration of humility. “I thought if I got rid of Ibara, Tsukasa would come to his senses. Unfortunately, Ibara remains. I cannot afford for my deeds to come to light, which is why I placed a barrier at the labyrinth where Ibara now resides.”

“That was _your_ barrier!?” Gen squawks, at the same time Ukyo calmly nods and says, “I suspected that was _your_ barrier. I know how to pass through them, Hyouga.”

The evening breeze brushes against them, three strangers who now know each other’s motives. But the question now is what they’ll do about it. From the apprehensive frown on Ukyo’s face to Hyouga’s stoic silence, Gen knows they’re thinking of the same thing.

Clapping his hands, Gen decides to do what he does best. He’s Senku’s most trusted mentalist, is he not? Understanding people and persuading them are just examples of what he can do.

So Gen does exactly that.

“You’re still a two-faced scumbag,” Hyouga says afterwards, just before they part ways for the night, “but I think that was the most sincerity you have ever shown.”

Gen grins, bright and wide. “Why, dear Hyouga. If _you’re_ saying that, then I must truly be losing my touch.”

Ukyo groans from the side. “Please, enough testosterone for the night. I don’t think I can handle any more of this.”

***

The next morning, Gen sees that his body is free of the dark markings that have plagued him for so long. Hyouga has lifted the curse, giving Gen free reign of his body once more. It's the formal signal for their tentative alliance, or, at the very least, a truce. He lets out a sob of relief, and Ukyo allows Gen to cry on him as a sheep for a little while.

Gen knows he has won a battle, but he knows the hardest has yet to come. 

Where is this sense of foreboding coming from?

***

“Run with me,” Hyouga commands one night, transforming into his wolf form. He’s at least twice Gen’s size, fur gleaming silver in the night.

Gen obeys, curiosity outweighing any lingering fear he has for this man who once tried to kill him. Hyouga takes him to a completely different part of the forest, one more spacious with tamer terrain.

Finally, Hyouga stops. “There are plenty of other men on this island who have familiar forms. Canines, hogs, coyotes, you name it. We selected them for the aggressive traits they possessed as animals for a good reason. When the time comes, you may have to fight in your wolf form against them.” He turns, casting a critical eye over Gen’s skinny frame. “Tell me, how much fighting experience do you have?”

“Absolutely none,” Gen answers chirpily.

He finds himself on his back a second later, Hyouga’s jaws dangerously close to his jugular.

“Yes,” Hyouga says, sounding smug. “We’ll have to change that.”

Gen groans. “Hyouga, you sadistic sonofabitch.”

***

Sneaking away from Ukyo’s attempts at teaching him hand-to-hand doesn’t work either, because Ukyo is: a) ridiculously good at stalking people b) a force of persistence c) excellent at making Gen feel bad, because unlike Hyouga, Ukyo is actually trying his best to be a good teacher.

“Come on,” Ukyo calls out encouragingly, after he has side-swiped Gen four times in a row. “You can do this, Gen.”

Gen’s limbs weigh like lead. Sweat’s dripping down his face at an alarming rate. “God, if Ibara doesn’t kill me, then you certainly will.”

***

On some nights, the nightmares come. Gen doesn’t get much rest on those nights. He sees Senku’s lifeless eyes gazing up at him, lips parted in a silent scream. Byakuya’s flesh decays away in the cryonic chamber, withering until only his bones remain. 

He always feels bad for waking Ukyo, because the man has superhuman hearing and ends up being a light sleeper as a result. But Ukyo’s never angry, and he doesn’t ask questions either. He makes Gen a hot cup of tea, sometimes telling Gen stories from his military days to fill the silence.

He wonders why he hasn’t been able to see Senku in his dreams. Gen has been on the island for almost a month. It isn’t a good sign, but Gen suspects there may be a simple explanation: Senku may not be getting much sleep either. 

***

One day, it simply happens.

Tsukasa summons Gen to the cave. “We caught this man trying to sneak onto our island. I asked nicely, but he refuses to tell us what he’s here for. I was hoping you could help, since you have expertise in the human psyche.” Gen follows Tsukasa to the back of the cave, and flinches when he sees who’s locked in the cage.

It’s Chrome.

Except Chrome’s body is littered with a rainbow palette of bruises. Brown, yellow, and dark purple mottle his skin, the shades overlapping. His face is asymmetrical, one side swelling larger than the other. Thin lines criss-cross the tanned patches of skin, some still leaking red.

Ask nicely my ass, Gen thinks. You tortured him.

“People who hold on stubbornly to their secrets usually have the resolve to withstand physical torture,” Gen says loftily, even as Chrome smirks at him underneath the bruises. “If he’s harmless, wouldn’t persuasion work better? A reward system, instead of one based on pain.”

Why couldn’t they have sent Kohaku? She’s a _bird,_ for goodness sake!

Predictably, Tsukasa shakes his head. “We cannot risk him running around unchecked. If he happens to be Senku’s ally…”

Chrome sits up, grips the iron bars of the cage, and yells, “HELL YEAH, I’M SENKU’S ALLY! What are you going to do about it, huh? HUH? Looks like you’re just a big bully, Tsukasa! I ain’t telling you anything!”

Gen screams internally. Chrome, you absolute fool!

“Well,” Gen winces, ignoring the sounds of Chrome screeching in the background, “at least he’s being honest.” Then he turns back to Chrome with a glare. “How foolish. You’ve just revealed your secret of being Senku’s ally in a second.”

I know what you’re here for, Gen conveys to Chrome silently. If you’re here, then surely…surely Senku’s here too.

Chrome’s yelling is so loud that Gen swears anyone around the cave’s vicinity hears it. “SENKU IS THE MADDEST LAD OF THEM ALL. IF ANYONE ELSE IS INSISTING ON WORLD DOMINATION, I WON’T BE HAVING IT.”

“Kill him,” Tsukasa says, shooting Chrome a withering look. 

The yelling from Chrome comes to an abrupt halt.

“I beg your pardon, Tsukasa?” Gen asks mildly. “Did you just ask me to…kill this man over here?”

“A loud, raving man like this isn’t useful to us. He won’t reveal any information we need, and he’ll be more a liability than an asset.” Tsukasa looks at Gen. “What’s wrong? Weren’t you wanting revenge on Senku? If so, surely you would take pleasure in being able to take one of his comrade’s life.”

Slowly, Gen admits, “I have never taken a human life.”

He tries his best to ignore the way Chrome’s eyes have become wide with dread.

“That is not a problem at all. I can teach you the best way to do it.” Tsukasa places a heavy hand on Gen’s back, attempting to offer guidance. “Now that you are with us, you need to come to terms with being able to take lives. Especially if you want your revenge. What better way to start than a prisoner?”

Well. This…this is awkward.

Then Chrome’s grin turns playful, and Gen sees why --- Chrome's fingers hold up a tiny wire, so innocent-looking and inconspicuous, that no one would have found it during a body search. The tip of the wire fizzles, and to Gen’s utter amazement, erupts in a blast that sends the cage gate skittering open. Just Chrome being Chrome, solving problems the Chrome way.

“VOTE SENKU FOR PRESIDENT!” Chrome hollers, and that must be the signal, because from the distance Gen’s ears pick up the sound of multiple explosions going off. One after another, a chain reaction. The ground rumbles. A flurry of yelling and footsteps ensue.

Tsukasa runs out of the cave, brandishing a double-ended sword, no longer paying Chrome any mind.

“Ohhh my god.” Chrome crumples onto the ground with a moan. “That was soooo scary. I almost pissed myself, man.”

“That’s what you get for getting caught! Imagine if I really had to hurt you. Ruri would disembowel me, dissect me, and string my organs up for harvest. Fuck, she’d wear my skin to a Stone Café costume party. Why didn’t you use Kohaku? She’d be far better for sneaking in!”

Chrome only laughs. “Gen, I got caught on purpose. Senku gave me clear instructions: I was to act like the most stubborn nutcase so they’d have to call _you_ , the mentalist, for help. It was the easiest way to make contact with you. Then, ka-boom, explosions. We fight. We get out of here.” When Gen tries to interrupt, Chrome says, “don’t worry. We have everything figured out. This is going to go without a hitch. We called in a few friends, made some new ones along the way. We know of this island’s history. Ibara too. We worked reaaaaally hard over the past few weeks, Gen.”

Gen dusts himself off, says, "right. Let’s go to Senku.” He shouldn’t be surprised that Senku has succeeded in amassing a large number of people for this. To storm a heavily-guarded island, you need manpower. Especially if said heavily-guarded island is ruled by an evil overlord and his meaty underlings. 

“Oh, er.” Chrome has the gall to look guilty. “Actually, Senku asked me to take you back to our ship.”

Gen’s head snaps up. “He did _not._ ”

“He did. Extracting you from this island was apparently the number one priority.”

Gen arches an eyebrow. “Did Senku really think I would just obey without protest?” If so, then he’s truly unimpressed in his bond mate’s lack of foresight.

“No, he did warn you’d be huffy about it. Which means I need to use this…” Chrome rummages through his pockets. Probably looking for a super tool to knock Gen out. Pepper spray that makes him sleep, or perfume capable of paralysing him…Senku’s inventions were dangerous like that.

It’s great that Chrome’s hands are so busy with fumbling, because Gen promptly transforms into a wolf and rockets out of the cave. Chrome yells, “OI, GEN! Come back here!”

“NOT A CHANCE!” Gen screams in response, running faster.

But by god, the island is a mess. Steaming craters littering the ground. Rocks blown to pieces. Trees and shrubbery on fire, orange flames towering over them. Smoke envelopes the area, which means Gen only spies blurry shapes colliding in the vicinity. Who’s fighting who? He doesn’t see Hyouga or Ukyo. He thinks he hears Kohaku’s voice, and it sounds like she’s engaged in combat, but Gen can’t be sure.

No time to waste. Gen desperately retraces his steps, hurtling towards the cursed labyrinth. He knows too well that’s where Senku’s headed.

Gen gets stopped a few times along the way by the familiars Hyouga warned him about, and some stir-crazy people who are attacking just about everything they see. Heck. Gen tears his way through, because fighting is a waste of time, but some confrontations he can’t avoid. When a fucking ox comes swiping at Gen out of nowhere, Gen mauls it with Hyouga’s lessons in mind. Warm blood sprays all over him. He shakes it off his fur, pushes on.

This time, Gen slips into the labyrinth with ease. “Senku!” Gen calls, pausing only as long as necessary to remember which routes to take. “SENKU!” Only the echoes of his voice respond. He ventures deeper, uncaring that he may be attracting the attention of other enemies.

Maybe…maybe Senku isn’t here? Gen slumps forward, catching his breath. Maybe Senku’s caught in the crossfire outside. Maybe Senku’s injured. Maybe he’s already --- Gen grinds his teeth, willing the negative thoughts to go away. No. If there was a place Senku would be, it’d be here.

“You know,” a familiar voice calls out, “I worked hard to develop those special tools for Chrome so that he could use them on you. Then by the time I was done here, you’d get to wake up on the ship. Nestled in my arms.”

Ha. Ha ha ha. Oh, how he missed this. Gen bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe he’d cry about this moment later, but there’s so much adrenaline coursing through his body that the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “that was shitty, Senku.”

“I would’ve apologised. Eventually.” 

Gen sighs. He stands, shifts back into a human, and steps forward into the lab where the cryonic chambers lie. Senku is inspecting the cryonic chambers, but he turns when he hears Gen’s footsteps.

They don’t jump into each others arms. They don’t spout verses of love and affection. None of them speak for a long while, the silence punctuated by the whirring of the machines around them.

Senku’s eyes rove over Gen’s bruised and bloodied form. “You look terrible.”

“So do you. You probably haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in the past thirty days,” Gen quips. Fatigue has added to the creases on Senku’s face, the bags under his eyes enough to hold small change.

But while Senku’s a mess, he’s a _hot_ mess. Gen has been deprived of Senku for a month, surely he can be forgiven for thinking that his bond mate is aesthetically appealing, even when they’re neck-deep in enemy territory. Senku’s even sporting a cameo uniform and a pair of protective goggles for this rescue mission, which only adds to the look.

“And the curse?” Senku asks.

“Gone.”

Relief colours Senku’s words. “Good.”

“I made friends, so that helped.”

“I know. Your nice sheep friend told me along the way.” Senku looks up. “Here, catch.”

Gen grabs the item that Senku tosses into the air. It’s the enchanted meteorite. “Returning my gifts already, Senku? That’s mean.”

“I want it back,” Senku clarifies. “Just keep it with you for the moment. With all the other things I’m carrying around, I don’t want to lose it.”

Weird, but okay. Gen pockets the meteorite, not thinking too much about it. “Senku, Ibara isn’t your average wizard. Something seriously nasty’s going on with that guy. Hyouga killed him once, but he’s back because of some complex forbidden magic shit. He…”

“…manipulated Tsukasa. Kept the _Soyuz_ astronauts here. I know. It took some time, but we figured out. That’s when I knew it was time to launch this operation.” Senku goes back to inspecting the cryonic machines and their complex array of switches, dials, and wires. “Defeating Ibara’s the only way we’ll put this to an end.”

“Where is he?” Gen asks, eyes darting around nervously. “The last time Ukyo and I entered this room, he came for us within seconds. Has he left this place?”

“Nah, he’s definitely here. He’s in the same room as us, observing what we have to say. He hasn’t attacked, because he finds us interesting.” Senku looks around, stance relaxed. “Isn’t that right, Ibara? Show yourself.”

Uh oh. Gen feels the hairs on his arms stand as the ghoulish moaning starts up in response to Senku’s words.

“Give me a warning the next time you start playing Q&A with the monsters,” Gen hisses. He doesn’t know how much more of this creepy shit he can stand before his heart gives out.

This time, the black shadows congeal to form the solid shape of a man. Tall, too tall --- the humanoid form towers over them both, leering down with dead, pitch-black fish eyes. Ibara’s cheeks are sunken, neck unnaturally long. Everything about him is excessive, from the twisted moustache to the dirty claws he has for nails. His mouth opens to reveal a row of rotten teeth, the putrid stink of decay filling the room.

God, how creepy. Gen preferred it when Ibara was a shapeless pile of shadows.

“You are the boy who was here the other day,” Ibara says, sparing him a glance. Gen shivers at how disembodied Ibara’s voice is. Then Ibara turns his attention to Senku. “And you…you are the infamous Ishigami Senku. The boy who Tsukasa so feared and hated. But that’s not all…you’re the son of one of the astronauts here! How marvellous. How positively delightful.”

Instinctively, Gen moves forward, the desire to shield Senku overriding the cold sweat beading on his brow. It’s Senku who stops him with a single look. Don’t move, Senku’s eyes say. Move and he’ll tear you apart.

Ibara circles Senku, his feet just barely touching the ground. It’s like watching a shark circling prey. “What was it that Tsukasa said about you, hmm? Ah, I remember now. He mentioned just how intelligent you were. How your mind was your greatest weapon. How your magic would easily…destroy the world.”

Senku sticks a finger in his ear. “Did he? I’m flattered. I like the world as it is though, sorry to disappoint.”

“All that knowledge in you, and yet you do not want to do control others with it? Curious…curious.” Ibara’s expression goes hungry, greedy. “If you don’t need it, then maybe I will get some better use out of it!”

Gen makes a sound of warning, but it’s too late. Ibara morphs back into a nebulous mass of shadows and --- as Gen watches with horror --- jams himself down Senku’s throat. The impact knocks Senku off balance, his back crashing and splintering glass jars and machines. Then Senku begins making awful choking noises, the kind which a person makes when they’re dying.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Is there a spell to get rid of malevolent entities? Gen wracks his brain, but doesn’t come up with anything useful.

Except…except the noises stop. Gen panics, checking to see if Senku still has a pulse. He does, so what’s happening here?

Then Senku’s eyes snap open to reveal a dark, soulless pit of black, and Gen fights the urge to vomit.

“Oh, so _you’re_ his bond mate?” The voice belongs to Senku, but those oily words definitely do not.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. This is the kind of scenario that no one could have foreseen or planned for. Not when Senku’s the one who gets taken and possessed by an evil overlord. Gen pushes himself off the ground, his throat thick. “Give him back to me, you sick fuck.”

Ibara-Senku cocks his head, and the way he does it is so _Senku_ that Gen stifles a sob. “Give him back? I don’t think so. Doing that would be a waste. I have never seen a person with so much potential, and so much knowledge. Do you know this brain here contains enough information to resurrect kingdoms and destabilise the world? Your bond mate here could have exerted so much power to rule over others, to have them obey his every whim…and yet, he hasn’t done any of it.”

“That’s because Senku isn’t like you,” Gen spits out. “Senku’s interested in magic for magic’s sake. He’d much rather understand magic’s potential and use it to improve people’s lives than take over the world, like the psychopath you are.”

Ibara-Senku crawls up to Gen, and because the monster’s wearing Senku’s face, Gen’s powerless to do anything. “And yet, you’re a bit of an enigma too, aren’t you? It’s why Senku fancies you. You keep him on his toes.” Ibara-Senku strokes Gen’s face with light fingers, the smirk on his face so familiar yet alien. “Don’t worry, I’ll treat you well. Think of all the things we could _do_ together. Since this body belongs to your precious Senku, you’re still attracted to it, are you not?”

The implications of the innuendo hit. Gen shivers in disgust. “You’ll never be him.”

“Oh, but you don’t have a choice,” Ibara-Senku purrs, licking his lips like the twisted bastard he is. “Once I conquer this island, I’ll claim you, make you mine. You’d be so pretty as part of my harem, tied up in my bed.”

“I hate you,” Gen spits.

And the monster only laughs in Senku's voice, the sound looping in Gen's ears.

***

Gen must have passed out at some stage, because when he wakes up, he’s back in Tsukasa’s cave. He shivers, chills wracking through his body despite the fire crackling merrily next to him.

Ukyo’s hovering over him with a washcloth, and he startles when he sees that Gen’s awake. “Ah, Gen! Don’t move. You’re running a fever, so stay put for now.”

That explains a lot, but when Gen cranes his neck to have a look, he sees a curious sight. The cave is filled to the brim with an entire concoction of characters from different allegiances. He sees people from the village, people who must be their new friends and are here to help with the rescue mission, but he also sees people from the kingdom of might: notably Tsukasa, Hyouga, and even the annoying Yo, who never knows how to shut up.

And yet, no one seems to be killing each other. Which must mean…

“…So…” Gen croaks. “…Does that mean we’re all friends now?”

Kohaku huffs. “If by ‘friends’ you mean ganging up together to get rid of this Ibara chump, then yeah, we’re friends.”

Tsukasa has his back turned to Gen, but there’s no longer any arrogance in the way he carries himself. Plenty must have been explained while he was out of it, Gen thinks.

Being duped isn’t a good feeling, especially if you see yourself as a champion of justice, forging on with the sheer belief of doing some good for the world. And if you were duped for years by an evil entity who only sought to use you, then…

Gen coughs, trying to sit up.

“If you’re thinking of going after Ibara right now in the state you’re in, forget it,” Kohaku warns.

“Relax,” Gen says, his voice tired in a way he doesn’t recognise. “I just want some water.”

Ukyo hands him a bottle. “Here.”

Gen takes a swig, then downs the whole bottle, throat parched. “So. What happened?”

“I found you in the labyrinth. But Senku…” Ukyo looks away. 

“Got possessed by Ibara. I know, I saw it happen before my very eyes. What’s the damage?” Gen asks. When no one responds, Gen balls his fists. “Tell me. Out of everyone, I think I deserve to know. Don’t even think of holding back on the details.”

“Ha, it’s not good.” The oddly-cheerful voice comes from a man with shaggy blond hair and heavy-set brows. “Ibara-Senku is a real menace! He has threatened the entire island into submission. Destroyed crops, buildings, trees, decimated a mountain, threw us into a wild two-hour snowstorm --- ”

Someone shushes him. “That’s enough detail, Ryusui.”

“But this Gen guy here is Senku’s bond mate, right? He needs to know it all!”

Despite the pounding in his head, Gen thinks he likes Ryusui already. “Yes. Ryusui, was it? Thank you. Is there anything else?”

“Ibara-Senku’s ordering everyone on the island to swear loyalty to him by tomorrow so that he can build powerful nuclear-magic weapons and take over the world! If we don’t, he’ll kill us all,” Ryusui announces. He still sounds disturbingly cheerful about the situation, considering how the apocalypse is on their doorstep.

“Ugh, oh god,” Gen says, scrubbing his face with a limp hand. Of all the things this evil mastermind wanted to achieve, of course it’d be building nuclear-magic weapons. And where would all this knowledge lie? Conveniently. Within. Senku. Gen doesn’t know whether to be scared or impressed, but decides he's both.

Chrome whispers, “I don’t even know what 'nuclear-magic' means.”

“We’re regrouping and trying to figure out what to do next,” Kohaku says, twirling a small knife in one hand. “Despite Ibara’s possession, Senku’s body still needs rest, so things should be quiet until tomorrow.”

For the first time, Tsukasa speaks up. “We cannot afford to let Ibara do what he wants. I did not realise…I could not have comprehended…all these years, all this treachery.” He kneels in front of Gen, a solemn gesture. “I am truly sorry for what we put you through. All this time, it was I who did not see the truth.”

Gen looks away, bitterness creeping into his voice. “You owe Senku --- no, you owe the entire world an apology.”

“I understand. Which is why I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say.” Tsukasa doesn’t shy away from Gen’s accusatory words, meeting Gen head-on instead. “I cannot afford to make further mistakes. Too many lives have been sacrificed. Many more will be lost if this continues. We must stop Ibara in his tracks. To that end, we need to be prepared to do whatever it takes. No matter the cost.”

Gen’s head spins. “What exactly are you saying, Tsukasa?”

“If we cannot banish Ibara from Senku…” Tsukasa’s eyes are dark. “…Then we must be prepared to destroy Ibara, even if that means taking Senku’s life in the process.”

The stillness is so loud that it’s deafening.

Gen must be in the middle of a bad joke. “You…you can’t be serious. Do you hear what you’re proposing?” He looks around, waiting for someone to back him up, but only silence greets him. “Is everyone here seriously agreeing to this?”

“You weren’t there to see it, Gen. Ibara’s penchant for death and destruction is one thing, but combined with Senku’s abilities…” Kohaku’s voice wavers. Another hand moves to clutch her dress, shredded from combat. “None of us stood a chance against him. The world as we know it could come to an end.”

“Don’t you dare,” Gen hisses, blood boiling. The wolf in him rears its head, demanding her submission. “You’re talking about our Senku, who actually gave a damn about you, me, and everyone else when no one else did. Are you so ungrateful that you’d so easily entertain the idea of _murder_ \--- ”

“I CARE ABOUT SENKU JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO!” Tears fill Kohaku’s eyes. “And if you’d just think rationally about this for a second, you’d understand that I’m agreeing to this because of how much I care!” She cries in earnest, leaning on Chrome, who also looks close to falling apart. “Senku wouldn’t want to be a pawn. He wouldn’t want his knowledge to destroy the world. Everyone here know this.”

Gen’s head feels like it’s about to split in two. “I _am_ being rational about this.”

“No, you’re clinging to idealism!” Kohaku exclaims, wringing her hands. “That was also Senku’s mistake. He should’ve left something as deadly as Ibara alone. That would have been the rational decision.”

Ukyo places a hand on Gen’s back, exerting the smallest push. “Gen, you’re burning up. You should lie down.”

“No…wait.” Kohaku’s words trigger Gen’s thoughts. His anger dissipates. “Rational decisions. That’s what Senku’s good at, thinking rationally…right? Someone like him...wouldn’t make mistakes. What was it he said to me…”

“Gen?” Worry enters Ukyo’s voice, concerned that Gen has lost his marbles.

“Hear me out. Suppose that Senku knew he was going to be possessed by Ibara. He knew this, but he couldn’t prepare a strategy against it --- because whatever he knew, Ibara would also know.” Gen holds up two fingers, a pose reminiscent to Senku when he’s thinking. The neurons in his brains fire up. “In other words, from the very beginning, Senku was counting on us to bring him back.”

“But we don’t know how,” Chrome protests weakly.

Slowly, torturously so, Gen reveals the meteorite sitting on his palm. “Senku returned this to me, just before Ibara possessed him.” He looks up at the expectant faces. “I…I think it has to be me. I have to be the one to bring Senku back.”

He waits for someone to disagree. He waits for the laughter, for someone --- anyone --- to talk about how stupid Gen is to pin his hopes on some stupid rock. But nothing comes. They’re holding their breaths, expressions hopeful.

The tightness in Gen’s chest loosens. He addresses Tsukasa. “Will you at the very least let me try?”

Tsukasa nods, reluctant. But it’s good enough. An opportunity is all Gen needs.

“Alright. In that case…” Gen forces himself off the ground. “There’s no time to waste.” He ignores the slew of protests. “Some medicine, please.”

“We gave you a dose a few hours ago, but it looks like your fever’s returned,” Ukyo says. Still, he rummages through a first aid kit, passing Gen a small vial of liquid. “This should help, but you’re not going to have a good time using magic. Medicine or not, your body’s going to undergo strain.”

Gen downs the liquid like a shot. “Performing at less than a hundred per cent seems to be the story of my life. Bleeding out in a forest, getting cursed, passing out, falling ill…I mean, what else is new?”

“When this is all over, I feel like you should seriously re-evaluate your life,” Ukyo comments, but there’s good humour in his voice. Then, soberly, he adds, “I’ll come with you for a bit.”

“Ukyo, you know there’s no need to.”

“I’m the island’s scout and guide, remember? You don’t have the first clue as to where he may be, but I do.”

Ukyo has a point, Gen thinks, as they wander through the island in silence. Now that he’s out of the cave and witnessing the scale of Ibara-Senku’s destruction for the first time, Gen thinks he understands everyone’s fear. The air is still, devoid of the sound of chirping crickets or animals rustling in the night. Tree trunks lie across the sand, ripped from their roots. Smoke rises from the skeletons of torn down buildings. A gust of stormy wind sends a spray of broken glass and branches skittering over his feet.

It’s a disaster zone.

Suddenly, Ukyo stops. “I lied. You don’t actually need me as a guide this time. Ibara…he’s at the hut. You can easily get there on your own. Sorry, I just wanted to talk without anyone else listening.”

“Ukyo?” Gen prompts, because Ukyo’s expression is crumpling fast.

“I meant it when I said I didn’t want any other lives lost, Gen. Please don’t do anything stupid, like…I don’t know, offering yourself up to be a sacrifice.”

Gen shakes his head. “You know I can’t promise anything.”

“I know saving Senku was why you came to this island in the first place. But you’ve worked so hard, you’ve done so much. You even got Hyouga, of all people, to be an ally. You exposed the truth of what Ibara is. You got Tsukasa to realise the errors of his ways. I…I…” Ukyo chokes out. “I don’t want to lose you. Don’t you get it? You mean too much to me, Gen.”

Oh, Gen thinks, hearing his own heart break.

Ukyo laughing at Gen’s poor attempts at flattery. Ukyo allowing Gen to cuddle him as a sheep whenever Gen needed something to hold on those cold nights. Ukyo shaking Gen awake in the morning, sometimes with breakfast on hand. Ukyo guiding Gen around the island, showing Gen where he could find the best sunsets. Ukyo teaching Gen the basics of hand-to-hand combat, pulling Gen up from the ground every time Gen couldn’t find the strength to. Ukyo preparing to shoot Hyouga down when Gen was in danger, even if that meant violating his principles of protecting life.

How wretched Gen was, for not realising sooner. For not being able to see how Ukyo truly felt. For Ukyo to be forced to say these words now, in desperation, just as Gen’s about to walk away. He can’t imagine how much pain Ukyo’s in, because the ache that comes with watching someone you love leave --- nothing really heals you from that. Not even time.

And Ukyo, the empath, must have endured so much. Soaked up everyone’s pain and anguish, including Gen’s.

“Oh, Ukyo.” Gen pulls Ukyo, who’s now standing stiffly, against him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t apologise." Ukyo moves to return Gen's embrace. "It’s just what it is. I know who your heart belongs to, but I’m selfish. I wanted to tell you, before…you know.”

“You’re not being selfish. Ukyo, I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. Senku and I…” Gen searches for the right words, and ends up settling for honesty. “No matter what happens in the end, we will be forever grateful for everything you’ve done for us.”

Ukyo sniffles, but it’s punctuated by a hoarse chuckle. “If it comes to it, will you at the very least try to use the right stance I taught in our last training session?”

“…Was it that bad?”

“It was terrible.”

Gen chuckles. “I’ll do my best.”

“The instant move I taught you to take someone down? Use it.”

“Yes, yes.”

Ukyo’s smile is wobbly. “Good luck, Gen. We’ll be waiting.”

Gen stares at Ukyo’s retreating figure until it’s no longer visible. Then he sighs forlornly, refocusing on what he needs to do.

The sad reality is that Gen doesn’t know how to make things right. He had put on an air of confidence, but that was for his sake as it was for everyone else’s. Everyone had been a miserable bunch, limping and tottering in the cave with smudged faces and battle scars. The least Gen could do was pretend he had his shit together. It would keep people’s spirits up; give them some hope to hang on to.

Gen doesn’t want anyone to be shedding tears while he’s gone.

Trudging through water-logged shoes and ignoring the branches scraping against his cheeks, Gen forces himself to enter a different mindset. One of determination, one of bravery. Gen wants to salvage all the pieces of this terrible love story, no matter how broken. No matter how unrecognisable. He stares at the meteorite in his hand again, hoping it bestows strength on him and Senku to endure whatever happens next.

And you know what? Poetry aside, Gen knows Ibara’s nothing but a bloody, rogue, madness-inducing, stir-crazy nightmare. The big baddie, the monster that doesn’t have a remotely interesting backstory. He’s literally there for shits and giggles, a power-hungry antagonist existing to make everyone’s lives miserable.

Gen will see this through to the very end. And what the hell, is there any reason to be afraid? Possessed by Ibara or not, this is Senku he’s talking about.

With the wind whipping through his hair, riding high on adrenaline that most certainly didn’t have anything to do with the combination of medication and magic usage, Gen storms into the hut.

Ibara-Senku is already on his feet, cackling. “I knew you would return --- ”

“SENKU,” Gen yells, swanning up to meet him, “I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS.”

Then he slams his head against Senku’s skull.

Nothing bleeds, but the echoing _thunk_ is sickeningly loud. Senku staggers back, clutching his head with an agonised moan. “What the fuck, Gen, what was that for?” The eyes that meet Gen are ruby, devoid of black, and Gen almost cheers --- but the ruby quickly fades to black, Ibara once more in control.

Haha, yikes. It was a good try, though.

Ibara-Senku snarls, “you’ll pay for this, boy!”

“I can’t believe it,” Gen says to himself, the sad hilarity hitting him, “I’m truly the chosen one, tasked with saving Senku from the evil overlord. Senku, dear, you give me so much trouble.”

“You are but a mere human that this vessel is attached to --- ”

“Shut up, I’m here to save Senku with the power of love and friendship.” Gen grits his teeth, throwing a punch in the vague direction of where Senku’s face is. Thankfully his aim isn’t far off, so the punch grazes Senku’s cheek instead of hitting empty air. Next, a punch in the abdomen. Then a sweep-kick, knocking the body in front of him off-balance.

Ukyo would be so proud. 

Ibara-Senku collapses into the ground, but sparks bright blue and yellow crackle in his palm. His grin is maniacal. “Your precious Senku cannot be saved. I will hurt you, and he will watch you writhe in agony.”

Then he slams a palm against Gen, and Gen braces for the searing sensation of being on the receiving end of Senku’s explosive spells. He had hoped to take Ibara-Senku out quickly in hand-to-hand combat, knowing that he’s no match for Senku when it comes to a duel by magic.

Except…nothing happens. There’s no explosions. No flying flesh. No bursting arteries. 

Bewilderment crosses Ibara-Senku’s expression. “Why isn’t this vessel’s magic working on you!?” he screeches. “I have destroyed this entire island! Decimated its forces, trampled its strongest warriors! Yet on you it refuses to leave a scar! Why!?”

“I'm sorry, but I don't know either!” Gen lifts his legs and kick, praying he can knock Ibara-Senku out. There’s a window of opportunity here --- without magic, Ibara’s nothing more than a giant evil toddler in Senku’s unathletic body.

…Or not, because Ibara-Senku screams in rage, fleeing from the hut upon realising that the one thing Senku’s magic cannot touch happens to be Gen himself.

“Senku, is this how you felt when I ran out on you the very first time we met?” Gen calls into the night, marvelling at the sense of déjà vu. “You do know that I’m a wolf, right? Great sense of smell, better at you in running, et cetera?” Shrugging, he rips a strip of cloth from his _haori_ , securing the meteorite around his neck like a necklace. Then he transforms, dashing out into the darkness.

Turns out Gen’s still at a disadvantage, because Ibara-Senku’s excellent at setting instant traps for Gen to run into. Most of them are ridiculous, including a thicket of thorny rose bushes that most definitely were not native to the island.

“Roses, seriously? Since when have you been such a romantic?” Gen grumbles, the array of small cuts from the thorns stinging in the wind.

He has a feeling that he’s reaching the climax of this epic boss battle, and he’s right, because what Gen sees next makes him dig his paws into the ground, the abrupt stop almost throwing him off balance. Ibara-Senku’s standing by the cliff’s edge, the exact spot Hyouga had dangled Gen off just a few weeks ago.

The leer gracing Senku’s face is lopsided, ugly. “Take one more step, and your precious Senku dies.”

Be calm. Be still. Don’t let the enemy know how high the stakes are. “Resorting to cheap tricks, Ibara? Senku’s mind is far too valuable. We both know you need him.”

“Do I really?” A rush of maniacal laughter. “I simply needed access to Senku’s knowledge to _copy_ it. Once I’m done, I can simply move on to someone else.”

Oh, no.

“You should rejoice,” Ibara-Senku leers. “For all you know, the next person to be possessed could be you.”

Gen’s mind spins at the unexpected development. Copying Senku’s knowledge, killing Senku, and then possessing Gen...that’s all terrible, but having Senku plummet off the cliff will be the first step to the world’s doom. Now that things have come to this, what else can Gen possibly do? 

Plenty, he thinks. It's time for the fun and games to commence, so Gen transforms back into a human, letting a loose yawn as he plonks himself onto the grass. “Ibara, let’s make a deal.”

“Splendid, splendid. I knew you would be amenable to negotiations. Well? Let’s hear it.”

Gen’s eyelids flutter. The words from his mouth filter through like poison. “Possess me. Take over the world, do whatever you need to do. I offer my body to you freely, for you to use it as you wish. But in return, you will do one last thing for me.”

“Name it.”

Gen’s voice lilts, the familiar sickly sweetness taking over. “I want you to use my hands --- Asagiri Gen’s hands --- to take Senku’s life.”

When the traitorous words leave his mouth, Gen knows there’s no going back. 

“Oho,” Ibara-Senku crows in amusement. “Now that’s interesting. Did I mishear you, or did you ask me to kill the very man you feel so strongly for? That seems rather counterintuitive, so what exactly are you planning?”

Gen shrugs, the motion helpless. “I do feel strongly for him, yes. But now that we’re out of all options, I’d rather end his life with my own hands than have him suffer further.” He crawls to Senku’s heels, stroking the skin with reverence. “If we cannot defeat you, if you're going to possess me…then I do not want him to witness what befalls the world afterwards. It’s an act of mercy.” 

Ibara-Senku stares down, contemplative. Then he barks out a laugh, the sound overtaking the silent tears running down Gen’s face. “You know, I understand why Senku likes you so much. You truly do not fail to entertain. I have met many people, but never have I met someone as conceited and narcissistic as you. Very well. I will grant your wish.”

Pressure slams against Gen like a freight train, the foul taste of rot filling his lungs. Distantly, he hears the laboured gasps coming from him, and squeezes his eyes shut in response to the foreign presence invading his mind.

Then Gen feels himself stand, although the action is done so effortlessly that Gen knows his body is no longer his own. Ibara tests the strength of Gen’s body, flexing and moving his limbs. Gen is a mere spectator, the last traces of tears falling from his eyes.

“Gen, you idiot,” Senku moans, crimson eyes betraying despair as he lays crumpled on the ground, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Ibara-Gen stalks forward, grass whipping at his bare ankles. “You heard your bond mate loud and clear. He made the call to end your life, with his twisted view on what ‘mercy’ is. Humor me, Ishigami…the two of you fought so hard, thinking of a multitude of ways to defeat me, for it all to be in vain. How does it feel, knowing you will die at the hands of someone you cherish?”

Senku chuckles weakly. “In vain? For a villain who aims to terrorise the world, you’re not very smart, are you?”

“Your bravado is meaningless.” Ibara-Gen reaches out, an incantation for death already on his lips. “Now die.”

The resonating blast that occurs rattles their eardrums, the eruption reverberating through the air. Gold light fills the night sky, shining so brightly even the shadows under their feet disappear. The meteorite laying passively in Gen’s makeshift necklace floats into the space between them, emitting light rays from the cracks beginning to show on the surface. Energy thrums in the vicinity, hot and electrifying.

From the dark depths, Gen cringes as Ibara shrieks with his voice. “What is this? WHAT IS THIS? A mere enchanted gift, a mere token from one person to another --- a worthless item based on nothing but human sentiment --- ”

“You guessed wrongly,” Senku yells over the din. “Don’t underestimate what my bond mate can do! Gen, now’s the time! Kick that sucker out!”

Gen musters whatever bit of mental sanity he possesses, and _pushes_. His organs feel like they’re being squeezed, his heart rate climbs at a frighteningly high rate, the _thudthudthud_ echoing loudly in his ears. The fever burns, heat searing his skin. Gen fights through the pain, knowing that this is his only chance. 

The meteorite explodes, shattering into pieces.

Ibara releases his hold on Gen’s body with a disembodied wail, his shadows consumed by the meteorite’s golden glow. “No --- no --- no ---- I don’t understand --- stop thisssssss!”

The surge of energy that leaves Gen has him toppling into Senku, and ---

Together, they ---

_Fall._

…

…

The ocean’s roar is deafening, deadly waves rushing up to meet them. Gen’s eyes slip shut even as blood rushes to his head, the wind whipping wildly through their clothes. Senku pulls Gen close, barking out a spell. Their descent slows, but it doesn’t stop them from toppling into the murky waters.

Brittle iciness hits them. Senku flails, kicking hard to keep them above the water.

Gen’s consciousness is hanging by a thread. Darkness clouds his vision. He’s spent, energy depleted. The desire to let go is strong. After all, Ibara’s defeated. The world isn’t in danger of coming to an end. More importantly, Senku’s safe. Senku has friends, which means he won’t be alone, even if Gen can no longer be by his side.

He remembers the enchantment he placed on the meteorite. _Protect him so that I cannot hurt him, for I would willingly give him my life if it meant he would always be safe._

Gen’s life for Senku’s safety. That had been the terms. And the meteorite had delivered. Gen can die happy, can’t he? Happy, and…free.

“Oi, Gen, fuck --- wake up! I can’t swim for two!”

Free from the expectations placed on him his whole life, free from the lies he always told. Free from hurting others, but also free from their care and concern. That would be good...that would make everything so much easier...

_Smack._

Gen coughs, tasting salt. His cheek stings, blood flowing to where Senku has hit him. He moves his limbs, a pathetic attempt at staying afloat, even as another wave crashes into them. 

“That’s it,” Senku encourages, teeth chattering, “keep it up. The hard part’s done, Ibara’s gone, we just need to survive…this.”

Sluggishly, Gen says, “you…you suck at swimming.”

“Why do you get so rude every time your life is in danger?”

“Can’t…can’t help it,” Gen slurs, his grip on Senku slipping. But before the waters take him, Gen remembers there’s one last confession he needs to make. The three crucial words, spoken on the protagonist’s deathbed to their love interest. “Senku, I lo…”

“If you try to pull the whole dramatic-speech-before-death-schtick on me, I’m going to murder you.”

Wait, no. More awake now, Gen murmurs, “you can’t kill someone if they’re already dead, dear Senku.”

“Then I’ll be the first to figure it out.”

Gen tries again. “Senku, I --- ”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Close. Your. Eyes,” Senku growls, and Gen’s hopes of confessing before he dies in peace evaporates.

“GEN!” A multitude of voices call their names from above. “SENKU!” When Gen lifts his head weakly, he sees faces, small and blurry from the distance.

Someone yells, “Ryusui, water magic is your specialty. Get them out of there!”

“Ha, ha! I’m on it!”

Ryusui performs an act of jaw-dropping water magic, calming the waves in their immediate vicinity and summoning a spiralling funnel of water in the shape of a dragon that cradles Gen and Senku onto land. Gen would’ve enjoyed the experience more, if he weren’t so close to expiring.

“First aid!” Senku calls. The next few moments are a blur, consisting of a flurry of medicine, warm clothes, blankets, and hot liquids. Gen gets passed from person to person, undergoes an array of healing spells. There’s a lot of yelling, some barked instructions. When Gen’s awareness returns, he and Senku are wrapped in individual blankets, facing a roaring fire.

The concoction of drugs, warmth, and the knowledge that they’re safe has Gen melting. He reaches out, tugs on Senku’s blanket. A timid gesture. Wordlessly, Senku extends his arm, an invitation for Gen to join the bubble.

Starved from Senku for so long, and finally being able to be close without fearing that he’d trigger an apocalypse, Gen collapses against Senku with a sob of relief. He presses his face against Senku’s chest, rubbing furiously against it.

It’s Senku. Despite the smell of brine and saltwater, despite the knotted, uneven green strands tickling Gen’s nose…it’s Senku. Senku’s alive, and he’s here.

Senku wraps his arms around Gen, adjusting the blanket so that not a single sliver of bare skin is revealed to the chilly air. His presses a kiss on Gen’s forehead.

“It took some trial and error, but I figured out what I needed to do in the end,” Gen whispers, so quiet he’s not sure if Senku can even hear him. But Senku shifts, indicating he’s listening. “I had to _hurt_ you to _save_ you. That meteorite…I enchanted it to protect you, but specifically…to protect _me_ from hurting you. As I discovered, the meteorite wouldn’t activate unless I genuinely desiredto hurt you. While I got a few punches into you at the hut…”

“That was painful, by the way,” Senku interrupts, but there’s laughter in his voice. “Who taught you that? Ukyo?”

“Ukyo. Guy deserves a gift basket after all the shit we put him through. But as I was saying, while I got to punch you, that wasn’t enough to activate the meteorite because my true intention wasn’t to _hurt_ you. It was to save you. The only way I could get it to work was…”

“…by attempting to really hurt me with your own hands,” Senku says, gently. “Which you could have only done if Ibara possessed you.”

“I was so scared. I was betting everything on a piece of rock, for goodness sake. Senku, I could have really killed you back there. I wouldn’t have been able to stop Ibara.”

“Just like how I couldn’t stop Ibara when he first possessed me. No need to beat yourself up over it, it just shows how dangerous he was.”

“But all it would have taken was one slip up,” Gen stresses, anxiety dripping through his words. “One slip up, and…”

“Hey, none of that. You said you’d save me with the power of love, friendship, and magic. And you did.”

Gen snickers. “Was it too cliché? A little gross?”

“Everything that has happened to us so far has been cliché and gross,” Senku agrees, “but that doesn’t make it any less incredible.”

Gen asks, “did you plan this out from the very beginning? So much of what happened tonight was dependent on so many factors. How on earth were you able to make those calculations?”

Senku tips his head to look at the sky. “No. I really intended to take down Ibara by myself. But all of that had to change when you entered the labyrinth. Once you were with me, I knew I had to improvise. Ibara wasn’t going to let you go so easily otherwise.”

“You were thinking of taking Ibara down by yourself? What are you, mad?”

“If we couldn’t destroy Ibara on the spot, then rather him fleeing the island and wreaking havoc on the world, the next best option was baiting him into possessing me so that the two of us could assess the limits of what he could do. Trial and error, as you call it.” Senku taps a finger against Gen’s forehead, smoothing out a furrowed brow. “The whole thing was premised on a gamble, but I trusted you to come after me. I trusted you to try a range of things to see what worked, and what didn’t. I trusted you to use the meteorite against me, even if I didn’t know what the activating conditions were. I believed in your ability to supremely piss Ibara off, and I knew you’d find a way to manipulate him to your advantage.”

Gen winces. “Are you serious? That’s not just a gamble, that was outright risky. Uncharacteristically risky for you, even. What even possessed you --- ”

“Ha.”

“Not funny,” Gen grumbles.

“If it’s you, then it’s never a risk.” Senku’s smile is good-natured, full of warmth and affection. “Because I _know_ you.”

On cue, Senku chooses that moment to press his lips against Gen’s, a kiss chaste enough just for the cogs in Gen’s brain to stop turning. Sly bastard.

Gen folds his arms in grouchy defiance. “Fine. There’s just one other thing I’m trying to figure out. When Ibara tried to attack me in the hut with magic…that didn’t work. Apparently, I was the only thing…person…who he couldn’t hurt with your magic. Why was that?”

Senku shrugs. “Eh. Who knows. I mean, it probably has something to do with love, friendship, and magic.”

How surprising, for Senku to not have an explanation for something. The words also sound twice as cheesy coming from him, but Gen doesn’t mind.

There’s no real rhyme or reason to magic. Not when it comes to him and Senku. But this fluidity keeps them connected, even when they’re just two stray souls wandering in the universe, seeking out what mattered to them.

Steeling his nerves, preparing himself to finish what he was about to say when he was in the raging sea, Gen begins with, “Senku, I…can I tell you something?”

“Hm?”

“I…uh.” Gen’s eloquence chooses that convenient moment to depart. He’s tongue-tied, unable to tell his sea-dunked, leek-haired bond mate just how he really feels.

Senku, blockhead as he is, doesn’t get what Gen’s trying to do. He looks at Gen quizzically, arms still nonchalantly wrapped around Gen. Like Gen’s a plush toy to be cuddled. 

“Feelings,” Gen blurts out.

“Feelings?” Senku repeats questioningly.

“I have them for you. Feelings, that is.”

Senku stares. Stares some more. “Gen, we’re bond mates. We sleep on the same bed. We are physically affectionate with each other.”

“Uh, yes?”

“You enchanted a meteorite for me with the strongest protective magic I have ever seen, took off to a deserted island where my enemies were, lied for me, bled for me, and almost _died_ for me. And now you’re shaking like a leaf because you have _feelings_ for me?”

“They’re very strong feelings,” Gen says dumbly.

But the issue of clarifying Gen’s feelings must be a serious question worthy of contemplation, because Senku says, "very strong feelings…so, love?”

Gen feels warm all over. “Maybe…yes?”

“Maybe, yes?” Senku parrots back, but he’s grinning, enjoying Gen’s bashfulness. “You’ll have to make yourself clear, Gen.”

Urgh, enough of this. There’s no reason for Gen to hide, is there? Mustering up his courage, Gen says, “I love you, Senku.” He meets Senku’s gaze squarely, and winces at how Senku’s expression has gone painfully blank. “You taught me magic. You allowed me to understand the value of my worth. You taught me how different life could be, if I could only learn to trust others. So…I love you. But, but! I know that things like love and attachment annoy you. I know that magic will always be your number one priority. I know that you’ll always be looking to achieve new things, making plans for a future I can’t see. I know you want to go to space someday. I know you want to make your inventions a reality.” Gen’s smile goes wistful. “And that’s fine by me. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, or to say those words back to me. It’s just…I would've regretted not telling you.”

For a long while, Senku doesn’t say anything. Then he sighs, long and loud, burying his face into Gen’s hair. “Do you really not know that I feel the same way? To you, that is.”

“You…you do?”

“So dense. So clueless.” Senku groans, pulling away so that he can shake Gen by the shoulders. “Seriously, do you think I go around kissing people who I have no feelings for?”

“I didn’t think you had a hobby of kissing strangers,” Gen agrees, “but I still wasn’t sure what that meant in the context of our…relationship?”

“Let’s clear a few things up. You’re right, magic will always be a priority. Yes, I want to test the limits of what I can do. Yes, I want to go to space. Why can’t I do all of that with you? You’re my bond mate, right? We’re pretty much as good as married, right?”

“I thought that was a figure of speech!” Gen screeches.

“I chose you. We chose each other,” Senku stresses. “I’m not very good with words. Never have been. I had hoped my actions were clear, but it looks like I’ll have to remind you every chance I get.”

“Ah, no need to go through the trouble --- mmf,” Gen gets cut off as Senku leans in to kiss him. This time the kiss is rougher, Senku’s warmth searing through his lips.

When Senku pulls away, his eyes are hungry. “I said, I’ll remind you every chance I get.”

Gen surrenders with a meep.

Senku repeats, “we chose each other, and that’s why we won tonight. We won, but we did so much more. We got Tsukasa to see the error of his ways. We made new allies. We rescued…” Senku pauses, gaze flitting behind Gen. He goes quiet. Too quiet. Slowly, he says, “old man? Is that you?”

When Gen turns, he sees them. The six astronauts from the _Soyuz_ , all familiar faces he recognises from newspaper clippings and television streams. They’re lined up in the distance, clad in robes and outfits found on the island. One of them, he remembers from a dream.

Byakuya smiles widely, his arms open.

Gen nudges Senku. “Go on.”

So Senku does.

The tears come more from Byakuya than Senku. Byakuya is a mess of snot and tears, embracing Senku and running a hand through his son’s messy hair. People around them clap and cheer, celebrating the reunion. Someone even lets off fireworks, the colours bursting bright in the sky.

“Glad to see you two talking and making out,” Kohaku announces, flopping herself down onto the grass next to Gen. Chrome follows suit, holding out a fist for Gen to bump.

“Thank you for coming with Senku. Thank you both,” Gen says earnestly. He reciprocates Chrome’s fist-bump, and, out of camaraderie, offers his fist for Kohaku too. “I’m glad you two were here to help.”

Chrome beams. “Even if you were almost forced to kill me?”

“Please don’t tell Ruri,” Gen begs.

“We’re so telling her,” Kohaku mock-whispers.

Chrome whispers back, “Gen’s a dead man.”

“Um…have any of you seen Ukyo?” Gen asks, trying to make the question sound as casual as possible.

Kohaku’s sly Cheshire grin widens. “Ah, were you worried that he’d be upset over the fact that you’re a taken man? I’d say he was, but he won’t have that problem for too long. Look.”

Ukyo is leaning against a large tree, eyes hidden by his hair, but even from the distance Gen can see that he’s restless. Fidgeting. His arms flutter like they urge to hold something…or punch someone, because the loud man --- Ryusui --- has cornered Ukyo against the tree, large hand placed against the tree right next to where Ukyo’s head is. It’s a scene right out of a romance novel.

Ryusui opens his mouth to say something, and…is Ukyo…blushing? 

Gen blinks, incredulous.

“Ryusui’s taken an interest in Ukyo, and he’s definitely not shy about it,” Kohaku says. “Ten bucks says he’ll ask Ukyo to be his familiar by tomorrow morning.”

Chrome hums. “But doesn’t Ryusui already have a familiar? Francois?”

“A common misconception. Francois is Ryusui’s faithful butler, but they’re human.”

“So the question is whether Ukyo says yes,” Chrome says.

“Hmph,” Kohaku places her hands against her hips. “Twenty bucks says he does.”

Gen laughs, loud and relieved. “Fifty bucks says that Ukyo baits him with a vague answer, unknowingly leads Ryusui around like a lost puppy for six months, then goes through a breakdown before saying yes.”

“Wow.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

Gen shrugs. “I’m a mentalist, and I know Ukyo well.”

Chrome and Kohaku continue to discuss the specifics of Ukyo’s love life. Senku is talking to Byakuya, but the other astronauts have joined the conversation. Tsukasa and Hyouga are further away from the crowd, in a deep talk of their own. People mill about, eating and drinking. A tragedy turned to celebration, Gen thinks.

When Byakuya catches Gen’s eyes, he waves and calls out. “I’ll talk to you soon, Gen!”

Dopily, Gen waves back. Pulling the blankets tighter to himself, he feels his eyelids droop.

Yeah, he’s ready to go home.

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Every time Gen remembers the sad and bitter parts of his life, he gets reminded of how much he has now.

It’s not that he doesn’t get bad days. There are nights when he awakes with a muted scream lodged in his throat, fingers fisted in the folds of his blanket. Those are the nights when he’s reminded about the pain he has been through, and how some scars will never truly heal.

But Senku’s there. He always is. After six months of being together, Senku has gotten even better at picking up every single disturbance, no matter how mild, that relates to Gen. He stirs when Gen wakes, embracing Gen from behind with grumpy, sleepy phrases like “I’m here, so stop worrying about me and start worrying about the six experiments we’re doing tomorrow” or “remember…Tsukasa now works at the amusement park as part of his community sentence…and because he’s such a cheapskate he won’t even offer us cotton candy discounts”. Gen always ends up laughing himself to sleep, because Senku’s terrible at comforting people, but it works all the same. 

When they wake up in the morning, they move on to their full-time jobs of experimenting with magic and carrying out research. With NASA being in their debt after the big _Soyuz_ rescue, Senku gets plenty of grants and funding for whatever research he wants to do. Senku eagerly gobbles the money up, renting a huge makeshift space which he converts to a magic lab. He even ends up buying the apartment they’re living in, claiming that he wants a permanent place to come home to. Gen’s happy with those decisions, and so he remains by Senku’s side, the loyal familiar and useful mentalist. He’s there to help with whatever Senku needs, whether it’s an experiment or twisting someone’s arm with words.

Byakuya takes up a teaching position as a professor in one of the universities, after physical therapy to rebuild the body he lost by living in a cryonic chamber for years. He visits them often, bringing an array of books, food, and souvenirs. Byakuya is kind and observant, and when he figures out that Gen is interested in psychology, Gen is suddenly inundated with enough psychology books to fill an entire bookshelf. Then when Gen starts watching videos on theatrical performances and magic shows, Byakuya ends up buying Gen an expensive tuxedo _._ For the future performances Gen wants to do someday, Byakuya says.

“You’ve bought me far too many things, Byakuya,” Gen protests, when Byakuya one day presents him a bottle of the newest Cola flavour. Senku had told Byakuya about Gen’s newfound obsession with Cola, and apparently Byakuya had taken this piece of knowledge seriously.

Byakuya laughs. “Nonsense. You’re like a son to me too.”

“Oh.” Gen ducks his head, suddenly shy. He doesn’t remember much about his parents, has little in terms of a backstory when it comes to his family. But he does miss the affection that comes with having them around, even if he’ll never admit it. “I’m very grateful that you consider me to be one of yours.”

“You put up with Senku, so that itself deserves an award. But you’ve topped the record by saving us all, which means you get to be spoiled for a lifetime.”

“Senku helped,” Gen argues.

Senku pokes his head out from the kitchen. “Just take the gifts, Gen. Byakuya’s right, you’re part of the family now. Congratulations.”

And if Gen’s eyes go a little misty, Byakuya respectfully doesn’t comment.

When asked by the media if he’ll go to space again, Byakuya laughs and says he’ll consider it in a few years. It’s a light-hearted response, and ironically this carefree nature and the colourful ties he wears triggers a wave of interest from fangirls who end up part of the Ishigami Byakuya fan club.

Senku is unfortunate enough to discover this for himself during a dinner out, when a throng of women in their thirties come up to Byakuya and ask for photos. Senku mimes gagging into his salad. And because Senku’s reaction is hilarious, Gen ends up coughing soup all over the table.

Because they’ve gained fame after the big _Soyuz_ rescue, all of this makes the news.

“I like your expression here,” Kohaku says serenely, pointing at the photo where contents are flying out of Gen’s mouth. “It looks rather fetching.”

Gen sips his tea with a dramatic slurp. “Senku and I will use our newfound fame for good, just you watch.”

And they do. Because Gen and Senku hang out at the Stone Café so often, others are naturally drawn to the place. The Stone Café business booms at an exponential rate, to the point that Kohaku expands the Café into the next building over. They redecorate its interior, adding colourful river stones and swirling glass sculptures.

Since the Café’s busy from dawn until sundown, Kohaku eventually thinks of getting an extra pair of hands to help. A part-timer, so to speak.

“What about Ukyo?” Gen suggests. “He’d be great at it. He’s quick on his hands and feet, and the customers would love him.”

“Oh, Ukyo would be fantastic! What’s he up to these days? Did he ever become Ryusui’s familiar?”

Gen grins. “That’s still up for debate. Six months has passed, I reckon the phase where he enters a crisis is about to begin.”

Ukyo stuck around after leaving the island, deciding to pursue his studies in magical weaponry and its use in war and peacebuilding. He’s busy with classes and the university’s archery club, but he’s never busy enough to decline an invitation by Ryusui. Gen knows, he talks to Ukyo often enough. Gen even makes sure Ukyo receives gift baskets on a regular basis, a small price to pay for what Ukyo has done for them.

When Ukyo and Gen next catch up at the Stone Café, Kohaku puts out the offer of the part-time job to Ukyo. Ukyo only needs to think about it for five minutes before accepting with a gentle smile.

“Soooo,” Gen says, eager for Ukyo to spill the tea. “Any developments between you and Ryusui lately?”

Ukyo’s eyes dart away. “You know how Ryusui’s been asking me to be his familiar ever since we got back? I’ve always laughed it off, or told him to ask me later. He hasn’t given up. Not once. I’m not sure why.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Ukyo, you’re a catch. Ryusui sees that. And from what I know, he’s the kind of guy who persists until he gets what he wants. But,” Gen puts on his most maternal voice, “if you tell him in serious terms that you want this behaviour to stop, he most definitely would. Persistent as he is, Ryusui’s not disrespectful. He’s only trying this hard because you’ve been allowing it to happen, correct?”

“…Yes.”

“You baited him!” Gen claps his hands in glee. “How sly of you, dear Ukyo. Have I been rubbing off on you too much?”

“I --- it was an accident! I mean, I don’t dislike him, but…” Ukyo’s voice trails off. “Ryusui’s a successful man. He has the whole world at his fingertips. He’s handsome and wealthy. He has a successful company, and a competent butler by his side. He could have anyone he wants. What else do I have to offer him?”

“He could have anyone he wants, but he chose you. He sees the good in you, and I don’t think he’d want anything else other than what you have to offer.” Then Gen stops the teasing, because right now Ukyo needs reassurance. And encouragement. Gen can do both. “It sounds like he wants to make you happy, and I sense that you’re curious. You want to see what he has to offer, to see how he can sweep you off your feet. Why not allow it?”

Ukyo flushes, the pale pink contrasting against his pale hair. “Last night, he took me out on his boat. We sailed around the harbour and watched the sunset. Then we spent hours talking about…ourselves. About his upbringing as the heir to the Nanami Conglomerate, and my…time at the military.” He looks at Gen nervously. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent that much time with someone else, not since…well, not since I was with you on the island.”

“I’m glad, Ukyo,” Gen soothes. “You deserve to be happy.”

Ukyo ends up saying yes to be Ryusui’s familiar. Gen collects his fifty bucks from Kohaku, pleased that he wins the bet. He isn’t a mentalist and Ukyo’s best friend for nothing.

Ryusui ends up visiting the Stone Café more often once Ukyo starts there, and none of his two visits are ever the same. He’s loud in a way different to Chrome, carrying himself with the kind of dignity a showy businessman would. But he means well, and he makes a business call to heavily invest in Gen and Senku’s new magic creations. Senku cackles as he and Ryusui sign a contract and shake hands on the deal, while Gen and Ukyo watch with interest. Everyone celebrates, of course, throwing a party and clinking glasses of champagne. Ryusui makes sure it's one of the most extravagant events in town. 

Now, the more problematic duo remains.

When Gen next spies Ruri sitting by the river, a contemplative expression on her face, Gen chooses that moment to strike. She’s beautiful as always, a vision of ladylikeness with a straw sunhat and long gold hair gleaming under the sun. The lapis lazuli hangs from her neck from a silver chain. 

He starts by saying, “Chrome loves you, you know.”

Ruri blinks at the conversation-starter, but to her credit, she doesn’t get as flustered as Ukyo does. Gen supposes that when you’ve known someone for all your life, the kind of love you have for them goes so deep that nothing about them really scares you anymore. She only says “he does?” and waits for Gen’s response.

“Absolutely. The fact that Kohaku’s his familiar? All related to the fact that they love and care for you. Chrome loves you romantically, Ruri, but he’s never going to confess until you do something. I have a hunch that Kohaku isn’t interfering, because she wants you two to sort it out yourselves. So unless you want to wait until you’re eighty, I suggest you take charge and show Chrome how you feel.”

Ruri looks thoughtful. “Take charge? Me?”

“Why not?” Gen grins. “You haven’t had the chance to do that a lot in your life, yes? For once, take control. Speak your mind. Not only would you find it fun, I think Chrome would appreciate that too.”

That’s all it takes to persuade her. She nods, the fierce determination on her face resembling that of her sister’s.

(It’s a good thing Gen never had to resort to hurting Chrome on the island, because he _knows_ that Ruri, if provoked, is capable of exacting the same kind of ferocity that Kohaku does.)

Gen gives himself a pat on the back when he sees Chrome and Ruri holding hands the next day as they head out for groceries. Ruri giggles shyly, and Chrome is as red as a tomato. It’s all very cute and wholesome.

“I gather you’re happy about this, then?” Gen asks Kohaku. They're hiding behind a bush, spying on the developments unfolding before them. 

Kohaku rolls her eyes. “God, yes. They’ve been dancing around each other for years.”

And that’s that.

As for Gen and Senku’s relationship, well.

Sometimes Gen likes lazing around the house as a wolf. Senku doesn’t question it. If anything, he usually sets his work down and gives Gen’s fur a good brush. Getting his fur brushed is always comfortable, to the point where Gen ends up falling asleep over Senku’s lap. When he awakes, Senku usually has his eyes closed as well.

But being cooped up in the house as a wolf isn’t always a good thing, so they hike the forests often. Gen’s paws take him around snow-capped mountains, loose and free from the city’s eyes. Senku quickly becomes as entranced with the forest as Gen is, and together they catalogue wild herbs, mushrooms, and scale tall trees that have existed since the dawn of time. Occasionally, they camp and trade stories under the glittering stars.

Otherwise, they’re at home and spending the nights in comfort. Sometimes they pursue activities solitarily, Senku fiddling with his telescope while Gen reads. Other times, they watch the newest documentaries and spend the evening debating about whether aliens exist. Or they attempt the video games Chrome lends to them, but Senku, being the genius he is, always outsmarts the system far too quickly.

Tonight’s going a bit strangely, because Senku’s more subdued than usual. Gen picks this shift in mood as soon as he gets home, but calling Senku out on it wouldn’t work, so he brews hot chocolate, adds in copious amounts of marshmallows, and waits. Senku startles at the offering, but Gen just gives him a kind smile, indicating that he’s happy to wait until Senku’s ready to confide in him.

Finally, Senku says, “hold out your hands.”

Gen obediently does, watching as Senku places a small pack in them.

When he opens the pack, he sees a deck of tarot cards. The deck of Major Arcana, to be precise. The cards are a perfect fit for his hands, made of sleek material smooth to touch. It’s an elegant deck, enhanced by its dark background and intricate silver designs.

Upon closer inspection, Gen sees that each card is represented by something or someone familiar. The Empress depicts a figure with golden hair and blue eyes, a representation of Ruri. Rose thorns indicative of Ibara are embedded on the Tower, a card representative of destruction. The Star is depicted by a glowing lump of rock, which Gen suspects is the meteorite.

As suspected, the Magician card is represented by Senku. Card-Senku wears a frowny face, has comically large eyes, and two scars like lightning running down his face.

Gen knows enough about tarot to know what the Magician card represents. Unlimited potential, and the intelligent utilisation of tools and resources to suit one’s own circumstances. The Magician is the master of his tools, and understands that there are always ways to improve a bad situation.

Gen continues to examine each card, until he sees a rendition of a black and white wolf on the Devil.

The Devil, Gen muses. Terrifying to the person new to tarot, and yet mysterious to even the most experienced magicians out there. The Devil represents the darkness that dwells in each being, the chaotic and twisted parts people try to hide. It’s about excessiveness. Materialism. And yet, it’s also about freedom, playfulness, and release. 

“Senku, this is beautiful,” Gen finally says. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah. They’re for you.”

“For me?”

“I never got to give you anything, even after everything you’ve done for me. For us.” Senku’s fingers tap at the table idly. “It’s not quite on par as a meteorite, but…you’ve been getting pretty good at performing sleight-of-the-hand magic tricks recently, and I caught you bookmarking pages on card magic and the psychology behind them. I’ve enchanted these cards to give more accurate readings, so if you ever want to start doing shows or…I don’t know, sell your services, then these could be a good start. I’m not sure how much you’d like to make use of them, or whether you’d even be interested, but --- ”

Gen cuts off Senku’s rambling with a quick peck to the cheek, giddy that he’s still able to make Senku go pink with the simplest of gestures. “Senku, I love it. Thank you.”

Then he kisses Senku fully, coaxing Senku’s mouth open so that he can taste the hot chocolate still lingering on Senku’s tongue. Senku responds, cupping a hand behind Gen’s head to pull him close.

When they part for air, Senku’s panting, face already flushed with exertion. It’s cute. Gen grins, shifting so that he’s straddling Senku’s waist.

“I was right. The Devil really suits you,” Senku grumbles, hands sliding around Gen’s waist so that he can pull Gen’s shirt off.

Gen allows it, lifting his arms to help. “Why, am I so tempting that you find it difficult to control yourself?”

“Incredibly so. It’s hard to refrain from touching a work of art.”

“How romantic,” Gen coos, grinding his hips down. The hardness he feels under Senku’s pants makes him smirk. “Do you need help getting these off?”

“God, please.”

Gen laughs. “I prefer being called by my name, but ‘God’ sums it up pretty nicely.”

“You are --- ah --- being extremely cheeky tonight.” Senku’s words stutter as Gen reaches down to touch him. “Hey, wait.”

Gen immediately goes still, always conscious of Senku’s needs. “Of course. We can stop, if you’d like.”

“No, that’s not it. I was just…” Senku mumbles. “…Hoping to try something new tonight. Only if you’re okay with that, of course.”

Gen’s curiosity is piqued. “Something new?”

“I’ll show you if you lay down and take off your pants,” Senku says simply, gesturing at the bed. “Just tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, and I will.”

“Alright, but know that the suspense is killing me. What do you have in mi --- ohhh,” Gen throws a hand to his face, stifling a moan as Senku proceeds to suck his dick.

Up to this point, Gen and Senku had never done anything beyond mutual handjobs. Gen cherished any kind of time he got to spend with Senku, and physical intimacy was something they experimented with at a leisurely pace. There was certainly no need to rush, since the apocalypse no longer loomed over their heads.

They also did not crave sex as most other couples did, preferring to indulge in simpler things like physical closeness and human touch. Embracing each other, giving each other back massages, peppering each other with feathery-light kisses in the morning. But now ---

“Senku, that feels good. That feels really, really good.” Gen isn’t used to getting blowjobs, so the sensation and the fact that it’s _Senku_ giving one means Gen approaches his limit quicker than anticipated. Despite the sloppiness, despite Senku’s inexperience, Gen clutches at the blankets and chokes out, “shit, pull away, I’m going to --- ”

Senku stubbornly stays in place as Gen comes, makes an audible show of swallowing and licking his lips, red and shiny with spit.

“God,” Gen groans, limp and boneless.

“I prefer being called by my name,” Senku recycles Gen’s words, swiping a thumb over his mouth to wipe away the remaining traces of Gen’s pleasure, “but ‘God’ sums it up pretty nicely.”

And the moment is so perfect that Gen bursts into laughter, deciding to pop a question that has been on his mind for a while. “Senku, how do you feel about fucking me?”

Senku’s eyes rake over Gen’s naked form appreciatively. “While I am open to the idea, I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured to say yes. Penetrative sex is a big step,” he adds, as casually as they would normally discuss the weather, or the next steps in an experiment. “It may be something you’d like to think through more first.”

How sweet of Senku to be so considerate. “Senku, I’ve been ready for some time.” And Gen’s telling the truth. “I also wouldn’t want to pressure you into it, but I’m game for us to take this next step if you are.”

“So none of us want to pressure each other,” Senku summarises, hands wandering over Gen’s chest, “but both of us are willing and ready?”

Gen arches into the touch. “It would seem so, yes.”

“Huh, alright. Let’s do it.”

It’s slow and messy because neither of them have had any experience, but Senku is careful and makes liberal use of the lube they have. He puts his full attention into Gen’s pleasure, focusing on Gen’s reactions, cataloguing every single sigh and breath that falls from Gen’s lips. It doesn’t take long for Gen to be hard again, even if the sensation of Senku’s fingers up his ass is something he's not used to.

Then Senku curls his fingers, and Gen ends up making a bunch of new noises he didn’t know he was capable of making, which he tries to stifle by smushing his face into his hands. Of course, Senku notices, and he's not pleased about it.

“No hiding,” Senku instructs. “I’ll stop if you do.”

“But Senkuuu,” Gen whines, “I…I’m feeling self-conscious.”

Senku chuckles. “There’s nothing you could do which would make me think any less of you. Let me see you enjoy everything, Gen.”

Coaxed by Senku’s encouragement, Gen allows himself to relax and fully take in the sensations administered to him. But there’s a fine line between being careful and being an outright tease, because Gen starts to crave for more, and yet Senku seems to enjoy wringing out a series of moans and gasps from Gen with no end in sight.

Senku’s three fingers in when Gen hisses, “what are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

“Why, impatient?”

So Senku _is_ being a little shit. The nerve. “You know full well I am. Come on, do something.”

“What do you mean?” Senku questions, mock innocence written all over his face. “If you want something, you’ll have to ask for it.”

“Have I awakened some weird sadistic kink in you?”

“I just want to make sure you feel good,” Senku insists, but he doesn’t deny it.

The words flare from Gen, impatient. “Fine. Please, dear Senku, won’t you kindly put your cock in me and fuck me until I can no longer stand?”

“And here I thought you were being self-conscious,” Senku comments, but he’s grinning at the words coming from Gen’s filthy mouth. “Your wish is my command, mentalist.”

Gen almost cries in relief when Senku pushes into him, the action slow but deliberate. He probably does cry a little, involuntary tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, as Senku stretches him in a way which no amount of preparation could have readied him for.

Senku pauses, a hand on Gen’s hip. “You alright?”

“Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”

There’s some discomfort, and the fullness is something he isn’t accustomed to, but it doesn’t hurt. Together, they’re one, and Gen takes a second to fully commit this moment to memory.

Gen wraps his legs around Senku’s waist, and nods at Senku to move.

The first thrust elicits a groan from them and while it takes them a few tries, they eventually find a rhythm that suits. Gen’s nerves are on fire, desire fuelled by the molten heat gathering in his core. The slick sound of their bodies meeting, the frantic snap and pull, the way their breaths quicken, the way Senku hovers over him, pupils so blown that only a faint ring of red is visible. Craving Gen, and everything that Gen has to offer.

And Gen feels the same. He wants Senku, too. 

Unwilling to be outdone, Gen ends up flipping their positions and rides Senku’s cock like his life depends on it. He moves with purpose, chasing his pleasure, ignoring the burning in his thighs.

“Ah, shit,” Senku curses. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

Smugly, Gen says, “thought I’d help you out by doing my fair share of the work, since you have --- hah ---- poor stamina.”

Senku just looks at Gen like he’s a religious experience. “Point taken. Don’t stop on my account.”

They switch positions a few more times, curiosity getting the better of them. But then Senku fists Gen’s cock, and Gen, already hypersensitive, comes into Senku’s hand with a surprised gasp. Senku’s thrusts become harder, more erratic, and he follows not too long after.

“Wow,” Gen comments, dazed.

“An accurate description.” Senku’s hair is mussed, sticking up in all directions. His skin shines with a sheen of sweat. The flush on his face from the exertion isn’t gone yet. “I think this is the most strenuous workout I’ve had in weeks.”

Gen tries to stand, wincing. “Same here. Ow, my hips.”

“Stay there. I’ll get a towel. I hope you consider your wish granted, considering how you literally asked to be, quote, 'fucked until you could no longer stand'.”

“I really enjoyed it,” Gen admits honestly. There are no earth-shattering confessions, no celebratory fanfares. But with Senku, Gen offers his honesty, knowing he no longer needs to play the part of a liar. He can entrust everything to Senku, including his heart. “I…liked it. With you.”

And Senku knows this, because he smiles at the truth in Gen’s words. “Good. More hot chocolate?”

“Please.”

When Senku comes back with hot chocolate and a towel, naked from the waist up with a pair of lounge pants slipping off his hips, Gen knows there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Gen asks, accepting the mug with grateful hands.

Senku slides under the covers. “There’s plenty to do. We have to finalise the last experiments on fire-shields and report back to NASA. Byakuya’s coming for dinner tomorrow. Also, Chrome’s asked us to help him with a windmill project he’s working on.”

“Don’t forget Ruri asked if we could taste test her new apricot cake recipe.” Gen counts off his fingers. “And while Ryusui’s new product launch doesn’t happen until this weekend, it may be a good time to start writing a speech. I can help you with that. You’ll be speaking in front of a bunch of stuffy bureaucrats, after all.”

“Yeah, thanks. Looks like we have a full day’s schedule then.”

“Indeed.” Gen smiles. “But that’s just how things are for us, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Senku’s answering grin makes Gen fall in love all over again. “And it feels just right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you will know that I intended this fic to be a oneshot. But the ideas wouldn't stop coming, so I decided to do a second part. Before I knew it, I was going stir-crazy with the writing. 5,000 words turned to 10,000, to 20,000, before peaking at 30,000. I could've split it into more chapters - that would've made sense length and pacing-wise, but I wanted to get it off my chest and give readers the happy ending they deserve. So, yeah, I really went to town with the whole thing. It was a mammoth effort, but I'm glad I finished it. 
> 
> On a serious note, life hasn't been easy for us all. There are serious things happening in this world that need addressing. Month after month, 2020 has hit us with an array of challenges. The coming days won't be easy. There's a lot for us to consider, to think about. To fight for. I myself am tired, so this fic was a way of getting some of my feelings out there too. 
> 
> I hope this fic...this chapter, with its hefty length, makes you smile - no matter where you are, no matter the battles you face. 
> 
> Please pardon any errors, plot holes, or writing inconsistencies you spot. Because of how long the chapter was, editing and quality control presented a challenge. ALSO, can I just confess that this is my first time writing serious smut? For all the intense things I read, I blushed while trying to write the basics of smut here l m a o
> 
> And hey, please leave a comment if you enjoyed - I look forward to hearing from you! 
> 
> Lots of love,  
> Anne.


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